The Pitfalls of Service
by carriebess
Summary: The destiny of a servant girl in the Vatican is inextricably linked with that of her mistress, Lucrezia Borgia. The daughter of a poor Roman family, Betta becomes Lucrezia's confidant and friend and through their life together she develops into a person willing to do anything to protect the family that she loves.
1. Chapter 1

Elizabetta lifted the skirt of her dress high to keep it from becoming muddied as she hefted a basket of laundry and made her way to the shore of the Tiber. The idea of the Sabbath as a day of rest seemed almost laughable as she mentally reviewed the list of tasks she needed to complete before returning to the Vatican for the night. As one of the maids assigned to see to the rooms occupied by Lucrezia Borgia and her infant son she occupied an enviable place among the staff but all of them had been working to the point of exhaustion over the past weeks in preparation for the wedding. Although she was only 19 years old her hands were rough from work and her joints ached at night.

She had served the family since she was a young girl, beginning at the house of Vanozza Cattaneo. Her mother had been a close friend of Vanozza's cook and it had seemed an ideal place for her to earn her keep, especially since the tiny house she had been born in was so full of her siblings that there was never enough for to eat. Her mother had been so proud to have her daughter in an honored position in the cool, spacious hall of the former courtesan. It had helped to spare her from the fever when it made the annual visit to the cramped houses of Rome.

When she closed her eyes at night she could still see the face of her mother as she lay dying all those years before, hugely pregnant and trying to live long enough to birth the child and failing. Betta's brothers had joined their mother in the weeks that followed. Her father had begun drinking himself into a stupor every night after that and without the assistance of his younger daughter, Ginevra, his meager income from repairing shoes would have vanished altogether as he spent more and more time with the bottle. He had only descended farther into darkness since, as the alcohol seemed to eat away all that was left of the good man she remembered from her childhood. He had tried to rape Ginevra recently, and she had only just been able to fight him off. When her sister had told her what had happened Betta waited until her father was well into his cups and hit him in the head with a cooking pot. When he came to he was trussed like a boar and Betta held a knife to his manhood and explained what would happen if he ever touched his daughter again. Father and oldest daughter had circled around each other like wary predators since then. Betta came home from the palace on Sabbath to worship and help her sister but when her sister left the house to be married Betta doubted she would return. And Ginevra would marry, Betta promised herself. The baker had promised to accept her as his son's wife if a sufficient dowry was provided. Ginevra would be happy with the man's gentle son, Betta was sure. And then she would no longer have to worry about protecting the girl from their father. She only had to find enough coin.

"Elizabetta," A girl hailed her when she arrived at the river. Laura, the daughter of her mother's sister, had entered into womanhood recently. She had the dark brown hair and sloe eyes of her family and the slim, high breasted appeal of youth. Betta could well imagine that her aunt was besieged by suitors.

"Cousin. How does this morning find you?"

"Very well. I was hoping that I could speak to you today."

"About what?" Betta already knew why her cousin had sought her out this day. It was not the first time that members of her family had asked her for help finding a place at the palace after seeing the generosity of her mistress. Betta touched the sleeve of the shirt that showed beneath the serviceable wool gown that she wore every day. The fine linen had been a castoff from Lady Lucrezia and its silkiness was a caress on her skin.

"Could you help me find service at the Vatican?"

Farther down the river an argument was steadily gaining volume, much to the amusement of the spectators. The wife of the tanner was loudly accusing a woman who served in one of the great houses of splattering her clean clothes with mud as they lay drying on the bank. The tanner's wife had massive, muscular arms and Betta suspected that the servant would soon find herself as sodden as the clothes. It would not be the first time she had dealt with a rival in this fashion.

Betta thought of all the possible reasons she could give her cousin for refusal. There were so many dangerous secrets floating around the Vatican these days and she would not willingly subject one of her blood to the snake pit that was the heart of Christendom. The normal pitfalls of service were there, of course. Three of the servant girls had been dismissed recently when they were found to be selling their bodies to the envoys from Venice and France. A slave had been hung when he was found thieving and pretty young girls were forced to leave as their pregnancies became obvious. But none of these things seemed as dangerous as her newly acquired knowledge about the Pope's children. Many people suspected they were lovers. Betta knew it for certain.

There had always been gossip about the pair, from before the time that their father had become Pope. They were constantly touching, and the casual caress of his hand down her hair or the way her hands lingered on his chest seemed to imply a greater intimacy then was normal between a brother and sister. She had seen the Lady watching the Cardinal walk in his tight leather clothing, as indeed all women who saw him attired thus watched him. To the serving maids the sight of the Cardinal's ass as he walked through the Vatican seemed absolute proof of the existence of a benevolent God. And Lord Cesare looked at no one with more passion and devotion than his sister. Watching the beautiful offspring of the Holy Father was one of the favorite activities of the Vatican servants. The rumors about the two were especially prevalent now. One of the workers in the armory swore he saw them kissing just a few days ago. Betta had initially dismissed the idea that they were lovers but then she had seen them locked in an embrace a few days before.

She had been wiping down the furniture in one of the rooms with scented oil in preparation for the wedding of Lady Lucrezia to Prince Alfonso of Naples when the Lord Cesare had entered the room. She bowed and left with Gregorio the page but they had remained at the door, peeking through the crack. The pair seemed to be arguing and their words were muffled. Her lady had started to cry and then she was in his arms and Lord Cesare was kissing her like he was dying of thirst and she was the only water left in the world.

Gregorio had met her eyes and without speaking they went to the next room that needed to be readied for the wedding. To be seen watching this moment would bring death, of that there was no doubt. Betta had seen Gregorio whispering to the other servants afterwards but she held her tongue. Let that fool put his own neck in the noose, she thought scornfully.

Betta had helped to lace the Lady into her wedding finery and placed the beautiful golden slippers on the ground for her to step into. Such lovely shoes, made of silk and calf leather ornamented with pearls. The lady had been more radiant than ever as she left to be married, and it seemed as though she would live happily with her prince, like one of the stories that the minstrels told. She had worked after the wedding feast was over, helping to tidy the mess that the revelers had left behind when she saw the same shoes left carelessly in the hall that led to Lord Cesare's rooms. Incredulous, Betta had crept to the door and listened. The moaned "Lucrezia" followed by the wet slap of flesh on flesh had sent Betta scurrying to her narrow pallet in terror. In the morning she had sought to return the shoes to her mistress before anyone was the wiser but she had the misfortune to arrive just as the lady had returned to her chamber with swollen lips and hair disheveled by a night of passion. Lady Lucrezia had not spoken but her eyes had been exceedingly sharp as she beheld the shoes clutched in Betta's hand.

The splash of the water and the voluble shrieks of the two women down the river brought Betta out of her musing. Her cousin was looking at her expectantly.

"I have a friend that manages the Contarini household. She will find you a place if I ask her. The Vatican is not a safe place right now." Betta smiled at her cousin to lessen the sting of her words, and drew her into an animated conversation about the boys that followed her around like flies. When the day had begun to darken she walked with her cousin home before returning to the home of her father to prepare a simple meal. With the day drawing to a close she began the journey back to the palace.

"You serve the Lady Lucrezia, do you not?" The man who spoke to her as she walked through the streets kept his face in the shadows.

"No."

"Don't lie girl. There are some who would pay for any information that you could pass along."

"Pay what, sir?"

"Gold perhaps, should the information be of sufficient worth. Enough for a dowry for you or your sister, Elizabetta." The man's voice rasped on her ears, cold like a snake. She did not need the deadly promise of the man's voice to fill her with any more fear. Her instincts were screaming at her to run. This man knew who she worked for and who she was.

"A dowry or gold! How splendid. I am sure a dowry would do me much good when I was found floating in the Tiber. Go to hell. I keep the secrets of my lady." Betta spit the words at him, her quick temper flaring with the fear. She kept to the center of the street as she turned and sprinted back to the palace. Her heart was jumping like a deer being pursued in the hunt and she expected to feel a cold hand grasp her arm at any moment. When she reached the safety of the palace walls she immediately sought out the Holy Father's daughter.

"My lady." Betta approached Lucrezia and knelt on the floor as the hairdresser wove her long golden hair into an elaborate coiffure. The lady wore a splendid dress but it could not disguise the sadness in her eyes. "If I could speak to you."

Lucrezia motioned the other woman away and gazed at Betta expectantly. "My lady I fear there is danger. A man spoke to me when I came home this night. He offered me gold or a dowry to tell him about you."

"And how did you answer him?" Lucrezia's voice was very quiet.

"I told him that I keep your secrets and then I ran back to the palace."

Lucrezia studied the face of the one before her. This girl knew far too much. "Why did you not take the gold? Many do."

"My lady, I have served your family faithfully for many years. Some people think that because I am a poor woman that I do not understand honor but I do. It would dishonor me to gossip like a streetwalker about those who have shown me nothing but kindness. And.." she trailed off.

"And?" The perfect eyebrows lifted in enquiry.

"Those who play those games rarely live long, my lady."

A servant I can trust, Lucrezia thought in suprise. I will have to thank Micheletto for arranging this. "A dowry you said. For yourself?"

"My sister, lady. She wishes to marry."

Lucrezia Borgia stood up and went to a chest where she kept a small amount of coin. "I will provide a suitable dowry for your sister in return for your continued discretion in all things. And your…_help_, should the need ever arise. Do you understand?"

Betta's heart leapt into her chest. "M..my lady." She stammered in gratitude. "I will do anything you ask. Bless you. " She was very close to tears as she pictured her sister's face at this news.

Lucrezia Borgia accepted the gratitude with a smile. "How do you feel about Naples?"


	2. Chapter 2

Betta turned the problem over and over in her mind as she finished supervising the loading of Lady Lucrezia's gowns in the great wooden chests that would transport them to Naples. The silks and velvets adorned with precious jewels glowed with beauty and her hand had caressed their softness as she wrapped them in linen. She had never been far enough from Rome that she could not see the great towers of the city rising into the sky and the journey south to the city of Naples was an exciting prospect. It was only marred by the nagging problem that could spoil her hard won contentment.

The past weeks had been very happy for Betta, and the memory of her sister's joy when she left their father's house to be married filled her with contentment. When she had visited Ginevra for the last time before departing she had seen that the girl she had loved more like a mother than a sister was adjusting to her new life. Ginevra had taken her aside as she prepared to return to the Vatican and whispered into her ear words that had filled Betta with apprehension. She did not want to bring her newly acquired knowledge to the attention of her mistress, who had enough to deal with at the moment. When Lucrezia's child had been taken from her and her brother had left to be married the lady had withdrawn in a beautiful blonde shell that could not disguise the grief that was apparent to anyone who cared for her.

She finally sought out the assassin, for there was nothing else the man who seemed to radiate deadly purpose could be, as he made ready to ride beside her mistress on their journey to Naples. Betta had immediately recognized his voice when she had met the man who had been sent to watch over her lady. It was only natural that her loyalty had been tested considering the dangerous secret she held, Betta reasoned, and she knew that this man would have disposed of her without a second thought if she would have betrayed her mistress. There were dark tales told about this man who served the Lord Cesare, and when Betta looked into his dark blue eyes she believed every single one of them.

"Sir," she addressed him respectfully in a hushed tone "I would speak to you in private when you have a moment."

He nodded at her and Betta took her place in the wagon that transported Lady Lucrezia's gowns and struck up a conversation with the hairdresser. When the group halted at mid-day to rest the horses Micheletto found her when she returned from the woods that bordered the ancient road.

"Speak, girl." He looked at her from under his shaggy mane of copper hair.

"Sir, I would not trouble my lady with this but I fear that someone in my own family may have dealing with those who move against the Borgias."

"Tell me." She had his full attention now and the subtle menace around him seemed to deepen.

"My father was not pleased that my sister left his home to be married. She did all of the work that my father claimed and sold to buy his drink. When I went to see my sister before we left she said that he suddenly had money for wine and he had been seen talking to one not known to our neighbors." The conclusions she had drawn from her father's behavior might not be as readily apparent to some but she knew what that man was capable of. She had protected her sister from him since their mother had died, and the memory of what she had been subjected to turned her stomach. When Betta had brought the dowry that allowed her sister to marry her father's eyes had burned with anger and the promise of retribution.

"You have no loyalty to your father then?" Micheletto asked her. "You know what this will mean."

"The man who was my father died years ago. This man deserves no less than what will come to him." Betta's voice was low and harsh, very different from her normally quiet tone.

"I would have something from you in return," the man said, "if I am to deal with this man who once was your father."

"I make no bargains that will betray the trust my mistress has placed in me." Betta's hand touched the small knife she had hidden underneath her apron. Micheletto's eyes followed the motion and quick as a snake he grabbed her wrist and wrenched the knife out of her skirts. Amazingly his eyes were slightly warmer when he looked at her.

"Get a better knife girl, with a small hilt that you can stick into your garter. Most men that seek to do you harm will fuck you first. Stick them right here," He brought her hand up and pressed a spot between his ribs "and they will be dead quick enough." He let go of her wrist and moved back. "I would not have you betray your mistress. But if she were to do something that could endanger her I would have you come to me. My master cares tenderly for his sister and has placed her under my protection." There was a subtle emphasis placed on the word "sister" that made Betta's eyes jerk to meet his and a look of perfect understanding passed between them.

"If it is in my power I shall do so." She bowed her head to him in respect and returned to her place in the wagon.

The high stone walls of Naples and the richness of the nobles sent out to greet them could not disguise the wretched poverty of the city. Betta spied children too weak to walk lying in the streets and the sharp bones of hunger seemed to stare at her from every face. The city itself was disturbingly quiet, so different from the raucous noise that permeated every corner of Rome, and the bustle of prosperity seemed entirely absent.

They settled into their new life quickly enough, and Betta watched with sadness as the former gaiety of her mistress was replaced by grief that only deepened as the weeks went by. The loss of her son and Lord Cesare drained all of her vitality away. Lady Lucrezia had a small chest filled with items that had belonged to her baby and Betta had seen her holding them to her face and crying at night. Betta hated this king, a sneering fool who looked at her mistress like a man did a prostitute and kept her from the child that had been a bright spot of warmth in all of their lives. Then her lady had returned from a banquet white with anger and she had spent many hours looking through the collection of books that were well hidden in her rooms.

"Betta," Lady Lucrezia spoke to her the next morning. "I would have your assistance with something."

"Anything, my lady."

"I need you to locate a woman skilled in… healing and herbs that would be willing to share her knowledge." Lucrezia's gray eyes had dark circles underneath them and Betta could see cold anger in their depths.

Betta nodded and thought furiously for a second. "If I could make a suggestion?"

"Yes?"

"This city starves, my lady, and half the people are lately dead of the plague. If you would allow me to bring food and alms to those in need for a time I believe I could accomplish what you need that much sooner."

"An excellent suggestion and the plight of these people is a weight on my heart. I will see that you are provided with what is necessary." Lucrezia had smiled at her, not the carefree smile of the girl that she had been in Vanozza's house, but it was the first warmth she had shown in weeks.

That night Betta sought out Micheletto, who was, as ever, watching her mistress from the shadows. She said nothing to him, but merely smiled and flicked her eyes to the beautiful woman who sat beneath them. Micheletto nodded at her and resumed his vigil.

The basket that was delivered to Betta the next day was enormous, stuffed with loaves of bread that had not been consumed at the evening meal and several precious dried sausages. She was swarmed by children as soon as she walked through the gates of the wall that surrounded the palace. "From the Lady Lucrezia," she murmured as she pressed loaves into the dirty hands of urchins who looked like they would not survive the day. She saved the sausages until she reached the well that provided water to the city. Betta located the oldest women she could find, almost toothless crones who gathered like a small flock of cows where they could watch the younger women with their children, and distributed the dried meat among them. "For your families, from my lady Lucrezia."

She asked nothing of them that day, nor in the days that followed. Her arrival was greeted with eager anticipation by the dozens of children who trailed after her on the way to the well, and Betta began to bring small cakes bursting with almonds and honey that her mistress requested from the kitchen servants at her suggestion. The children brought her small tokens of thanks, wilted flowers that must have been gathered outside the city gates and perfect shells that glowed like pearls. When the oldest woman that Betta had ever seen inquired after the health of her mistress Betta mentally smiled in triumph.

"My mistress is well, and the soul of Christian generosity and virtue, but…" she trailed off delicately, and looked down as though overcome by embarrassment.

The woman, as expected, pressed her for details. She was most eager to help the one who had filled the bellies of her grandchildren and pressed coins into her hand to be saved for the winter.

"It is a delicate matter, you see, and must be handled with discretion." Betta looked at her earnestly. "My mistress fears that she will be sent back to Rome soon if she does not quicken with child but her husband.." Betta brought her finger up to point at the sky and then brought it down in a motion that mimicked the wilting of a flower. "He lacks vigor, you see." She smirked conspiratorially as the old woman who dissolved into cackles of laughter.

"I know just the one you need," the woman wheezed. "Lives outside the city gates. Some say that her family were Jews that were expelled from the city but she can help your lady, if anyone can. I will have my grandson show you were to find her."

"I thank you, and my lady thanks you." She found a cavallo that she had tucked in a leather purse and gave it to the woman, whose eyes widened. She motioned her grandson over and whispered into his ear. The urchin was one of the children who followed Betta every day and he gave her a wide and mischievous grin as he took her hand and led her outside of the walls.

When Betta returned to the palace that afternoon she was covered in dust and her brown hair was escaping from its customarily neat braid. She found her mistress being readied for yet another feast. Something in her expression must have alerted Lucrezia to the news she brought for the other servants were sent from the room with a word.

"I have found the person you wanted, my lady, and I have spoken with her. I am to bring you to her cottage this very night if it pleases you."

Lucrezia's eyes were lit with fire once again and she grabbed Betta's hands. "It pleases me." She smiled, and for the first time Betta saw a resemblance to Lord Cesare in her fierce expression. I hope that little king knows what he has unleashed, Betta thought, and she returned the smile. When the lady had left Betta once again sought out Micheletto and motioned him to follow her into a darkened room.

"My lady and I will go outside the city this night." She told him after the man had made certain they were alone.

"On what business?" Micheletto's posture was negligent as ever but there was coiled strength in his lean muscles and his dark eyes were probing.

"My lady seeks one skilled in healing."

Micheletto snorted. "A witch, you mean."

"Some might call her that. But I would not have the Lady Lucrezia journey outside the gates of the palace with only me to protect her."

Micheletto studied her in silence for a second, taking in the bright eyes that held no trace of slyness or seduction and the neatness of her person despite the dust that still clung to her. "You are a smart girl. Did you get a better knife?" Betta nodded and brought out the blade she had slipped into her garter. He took it from her and fingered the edge. He noted with approval that Betta had subtly shifted her posture so that she could flee in a second if needed. "Come to me soon and I will show you how to sharpen it. This would not cut warm butter." He turned and began to walk out of the room. "I had a message from Rome. Seems your father was broken hearted when his older girl died from the pestilence in Naples and fell off a bridge. His only surviving daughter had him buried. "

Betta froze and allowed Micheletto to leave the room in front of her. She searched her heart for a trace of remorse and found none, only relief that she was free. It seems I have found the right family to serve, she thought, and left the room to prepare for the journey that night.


	3. Chapter 3

Betta threw a flirtatious smile over her shoulder as she ducked under the great gate that surrounded the royal palace of Naples. The guard that was posted at the gate was a handsome youth near Betta's age named Bernardino. When she had learned that the young man who gazed at her with naked admiration when he saw her on the grounds was often set to guard at night she began to encourage his affections. He was pitifully eager to please her and in return for a few fumbling caresses and a kiss she had ensured that she and her mistress could leave the palace whenever they needed. In truth Betta wished that she could respond to him, but that part of her seemed dead or never to have existed at all.

"That boy fancies you." Lady Lucrezia told her as they wound their way through the dark streets of the city.

Betta rolled her eyes. "Yes my lady, I know it."

"Is he your lover then? He is not unattractive." Lucrezia had surveyed the young man with his bright auburn hair and blue eyes with an appreciative smile. She cocked her eyebrow at the maid.

Betta shuddered involuntarily as she replied. "No my lady, I take no lovers."

Lucrezia was genuinely surprised. "Do you not like men?" Lucrezia seemed to be in a lighthearted mood, as though finding something to engage her mind had dispelled the lingering cloud of depression that hung over her head. Although her tone and interest seemed to invite familiarity Betta stayed carefully respectful.

"Taking a man as a lover gives them power over you. I will never be under the control of a man again."

Lucrezia laughed bitterly. "How well I know it. And yet love…" she lapsed into silence, and Betta knew that she was thinking of her own life and the perils that were inherent with trusting your heart to another.

"Can be dangerous." Betta smiled at her mistress and motioned her to follow more closely as they left the perimeter of the city and walked to the place where Mother Nucca lived in the deepest part of the forest that bordered the eastern wall.

The cottage that the boy had led her to earlier in the day seemed to be held up by the ancient oak tree that formed one of the corners. The thatched roof was in a terrible state of repair and there were a multitude of birds that seemed to be making their nests among the straw. Two goats were penned in a wattle enclosure near the house and the garden, where all manner of plants grew, was expansive and seemed more than the elderly woman could care for on her own. Someone else comes here, Betta thought.

Mother Nucca was a tiny woman, bent over with age, whose face hung in loose folds around her mouth and eyes. She had a mantle knotted under her chin that threw part of her face into shadow and she smelled of dirt and sweat, as did almost all the inhabitants of this wretched city. Betta also detected the scents of rosemary and sage and other herbs that Betta could not put a name to. If there were any teeth left in the old woman's mouth they were not in evidence as she spoke to Lady Lucrezia in a voice that chewed the words.

"Girl here says you seek to learn from me. Dangerous thing, learning. Can get your feet warmed a little more than you'd like."

Lucrezia Borgia smiled. "I have a powerful family."

"So I understand." Mother surveyed Lady Lucrezia with eyes that were dark and piercing despite their age. "I am no witch, no matter what the people in that stinking town say. I will teach you what I know of healing and herbs but no more. I have no truck with the devil."

"But there are those that do?" Lucrezia inquired.

"None that I would speak of. Best you come inside." Betta ducked her head as she entered the humble cottage, which had plants hanging upside down from every available space. A fire blazed in the hearth despite the relative heat of the night and from a kettle Betta could smell the slightly sour aroma of milk being made into cheese.

Girl," she told Betta, "best you wait outside. Unless you have a powerful family as well."

Betta turned her eyes towards her mistress, who nodded in agreement. Betta slipped out the door with a sigh of relief, glad to be free of air that was cloying with the heat of the fire and the scent of so many plants. Through the doorway Betta could hear the old woman beginning to explain some of the properties of the herbs that she brought down from their place drying on the rafters. She spoke of rosemary, which had a multitude of beneficial uses, and mandrake, which could render someone unconscious, and henbane, which could relieve pain as well as end it permanently. "And this one, wild carrot. Grows everywhere. Take the seeds regularly and it will stop you from quickening with child."

"This one I know." Lady Lucrezia said. "Belladonna. Some women use it in their eyes."

"Fools." The woman spat. "It's poison. There are quicker ways to end your life. Now this one, cowbane, makes a man's cock about as useful as a rope."

Betta walked away from the cottage and the woman's words, which seemed to be putting a spell on the dark night. She gathered some wild grasses that grew along the path and fed them to the goats that looked at her with gold eyes but seemed friendly enough. There was a noise under one of the trees across the clearing and Betta's hand went to the small dagger that Micheletto had strapped to her forearm under her billowing sleeve before they had left the palace. She whirled and saw Micheletto watching her from the darkness and Betta knew that he had only allowed her to see him because he wished it. They shared a nod before he disappeared back under the tree.

The skies were fully dark and a multitude of stars lit the night before Lady Lucrezia emerged from the tiny cottage clutching a pouch that she cradled protectively like a child. The lantern that she held provided a small pool of light that wrapped around them, seeming to insulate them from dangers. Betta waited when her mistress stopped to gather something that grew under one of the trees and she saw Micheletto emerge from the shadows and speak to the Lady with words that were too faint for her to make sense of. The man then escorted them back to the palace, and when Lady Lucrezia was brought safely back to her rooms Micheletto favored her with a rare smile that was almost hidden in the depths of his coppery beard. The next day Betta sought him out while Lady Lucrezia was napping and he showed her how to sharpen her knife. The kinship that developed between them in the days that followed, built on the need to protect a single woman, brought with it unexpected benefits. The assassin began to instruct her when he had a free moment, showing her places that she could strike with a hand that would make a man's arm go numb and how to find the soft spots on a body with the knife that she kept wickedly sharp. And he showed her how to move silently through the dark, finding the deepest shadows to dwell in. He would be leaving soon, they both knew, to rejoin his master and fight in the battles that would surely come and he would not leave the lady undefended.

The days seemed to fly by as her mistress visited the old woman once or twice a fortnight and Betta continued her daily journeys into the town to distribute food. One of the women who begged near the great gate of the city sought Betta out regularly and whispered into her ear about envoys from the great families who entered into the city but where not greeted officially. Betta made sure that she saved loaves of the freshest bread for her. The children had become a network of little informants and nothing seemed to happen in the city that they did not see and report back to her, eager for the sweets she saved for them. She fretted that the little ones would endanger themselves in their eagerness to please her and she cautioned them to never do anything that could bring them to the attention of the city watch. Betta knew that if they had been in Rome her actions would already have been reported but the city was still so empty and reeling from twin assaults of plague and the French invasion that no one seemed to notice the secrets she gathered and reported back to her mistress, who saved the information for later use.

"The king has how many bastard children?" Lucrezia asked, outraged.

"More than a dozen scattered throughout the city. He seems to prefer dark haired women with tits like cows. No wonder he has not had time to get his wife with child." The king's new bride was a tender slip of a girl who had only just entered womanhood

"And he will not let me have my son?" Lucrezia harrumphed in displeasure.

"And the archbishop here is considered a saintly man because he keeps no ladies as his mistress but the young boys who attend him are always exceptionally pretty and well cared for." Betta waggled her eyebrows suggestively.

"That is absolutely disgusting. Those poor boys."

"Most consider it a fair trade for a warm bed and a full belly. Or so I have been told. And they at least fair better than the girls who get sold to the brothels."

Betta was near the well when the great bells of the city began to ring, and as she hurried back to the palace she saw a mangled body being carried on a litter. The king, it appeared, had died in a most horrible manner, and although the servants whispered that someone must have had a hand in it no one seemed overly concerned. Betta, seeing the smile on the face of her mistress when she greeted the assassin after the king's death, made her own conclusions as to his fate and rejoiced that the baby would soon be joining them in Naples.


	4. Chapter 4

Little Giovanni smiled and babbled incomprehensibly at Betta as they sat in the warm sunshine of the palace courtyard. For a precious few hours a day Betta tended to him while his nanny accompanied Lady Lucrezia to mass and she treasured the time that she was able to spend with the sunny natured child. The Lady would not entrust the child to any besides Maria or herself, and first few days after Micheletto had brought him from Rome Lucrezia had not left his side for any reason.

The return of the baby to his mother' loving arms has improved the humor of her mistress a great deal but Betta knew that there was still disharmony in the marriage that had brought them here. They never shared a bed, the linens of her mistresses great carved bed being surpassingly clean and fresh each morning, and Alfonso could often be seen drinking far into the night when he should have been enjoying the favors of his new wife. Not that Betta blamed her mistress for her rejection of the young man. He had proven himself the worst kind of craven and allowed his wife to suffer at the hands of his family with only token protest when all that she wanted was her child. Lord Cesare would soon deal with this boy, she had no doubt.

At the thought of Lord Cesare Betta's mind drifted to Micheletto. He had left with his master, off to conquer with the army gained from the French alliance. Before he had departed the assassin sought her out.

"You have a good head on your shoulders girl. Use it and keep them both safe." At the unexpected kindness of his words Betta felt a tightness in her throat. "If you ever need to find me in Rome go to the tavern by the fish-market near the docks. I have some associates that gather there and they can usually find me." And he had smiled at her with genuine affection before he had turned and disappeared into the crush of the army. She had thought of him often as the weeks went by, and she hoped that someday she would be able to repay him for giving her freedom from the crippling effects of fear that had plagued her.

The departure of the assassin had left Betta feeling ill at ease in the palace without him there to protect her lady. After they had returned from seeing the new king of Naples invested in Rome the atmosphere has become increasingly less hospitable despite her lady's new status as ambassador and she wished Micheletto was there to access the situation. The man could scent danger like a stag hound while she only felt it in the back of her mind like the approach of a storm.

Betta heard the rattle of amour behind as the guard approached but she paid it no mind as she tickled the child's feet with a blade of grass. A startled gasp escaped her when she was grabbed from behind and her back was pressed into the wall. Giovanni began to wail from the ground and she struggled to reach the crying child but the strength in the guard's hands held her immobile. She had seen this guard hundreds of time on duty at the palace. He had a pock marked face and small, mean eyes and a reputation that was well known to every woman who served the royal family and tried to keep her skirts from being tossed. His breathe stank of wine and she was paralyzed for a moment by the memory of being held thus by her father.

"You're a tasty little bit, girl." He rammed his thighs between her own and began rubbing brutally. The man's beard abraded the skin of her neck and he squeezed one of her breasts. "Bernardino says you fuck him real good ."

Rage burned through her fear. "Get off me you bastard." Betta slammed her hand into the man's nose as Micheletto had taught her and she was gratified to see blood start spurting. His hand cracked into her cheek and for a second stars danced before her eyes. He pushed her to the ground, almost crushing the child, and stood over her with his hands clenched into fists.

"Go back to that little bastard, and your whore mistress." He wiped the blood away from his nose and his lips moved into a smile made more gruesome by the sheen of red across his teeth. "She's going to get what's coming to her, and so will you." The guard stalked off and Betta gathered the crying child into her arms and fled back to the safety of the rooms. When Lucrezia returned from the church she found Betta still clutching the boy tightly to her chest while a huge bruise blossomed on her cheek like a dark flower.

"My God, what has happened?" Lady Lucrezia ran to her son and snatched him out of Betta's arms, checking him for injuries.

"I was attacked, my lady, and he said..he said.." The adrenaline that had held her in its grasp since she was struck had finally dissipated and Betta was suddenly conscious of the slight blurring of her vision and her stomach roiled. Betta dashed to the window and vomited copiously. Far below she heard a man start to curse as the bounty from above splashed into his upturned face.

Lucrezia came to her and began wiping Betta's face with a rag that she had dampened in a basin of water. "Who attacked you and what did he say Betta? This might be important. There is something very wrong here. "

"A guard grabbed me when I had the baby in the courtyard. He called Giovanni a little bastard and you a whore, my lady. And he said you would be getting whats coming to you." The terror was finally leaving her but it was replaced by a deeper understanding of the dangerous situation her mistress was now placed in. The clouds that she had seen gathering on the horizon had finally erupted and there was nothing to protect them save their wits and what ever tenuous alliances they had forged while in this place.

Lucrezia Borgia had become an icy effigy whose eyes were storm clouds. "I will learn the meaning of this. Stay here with Giovanni. " She swept from the room in a swirl of blond curls and heavy robes.

The time seemed to drag by as Betta and Nanny waited for the lady to return. When the door finally opened after half the day had elapsed it was not Lucrezia who entered but her husband. Prince Alfonso shifted back and forth uncomfortably as he looked from Nanny who rocked Giovanni in his cradle to Betta, whom he finally addressed. "My wife has fainted and is asking for a healer from the forest. Can you bring her here, girl?"

I have served his wife from her first flowering and greeted him at this door every morning since we moved to this blighted country and he has not even learned my name, Betta thought wryly. No wonder my Lady treasures him so. "Yes, my lord. I will bring her. " Betta grabbed her cloak and hurried from the palace. Bernardino tried to stop her for a quick word but she shot him a look so venomous that it brought him up was hailed by multiple people on the street as she sped through the town and followed the path to Mother Nucca's house in the woods.

Betta pounded on the door of the cottage until Mother Nucca answered her. "Mother, my lady has need of you in the palace." Betta was breathless from the quick pace she had maintained on the journey. Mother motioned her into the interior and sitting in front of the fire Betta saw another aged woman with long grey hair, seemingly at home in the cramped, plant filled room.

"Tell us what is going on."

"But.." Betta cut her eyes to the other inhabitant of the room.

"Oh, your Lady has already had dealings with my daughter before and I think she might serve you better in this." Mother Nucca smiled, showing a lone tooth that hung like a stalactite far back in the cave of her mouth.

"Your daughter?"

"What, you think I hatched like an egg?" The younger woman's voice was full of dark humor.

Betta quickly explained that her mistress had fainted after meeting with the king and asked that a healer be brought to her. The women shared a look that spoke volumes. "Best you go with her. Do what you can for the lady." Mother Nucca said to her daughter. "Girl." she said to Betta as the other gathered up her things. "I don't think your mistress will be coming here any longer. Take my blessing to her for the long road ahead." Betta unexpectedly felt tears gather in her eyes as she bid farewell to the woman and the cottage that rested in the cool darkness of the deep forest.


	5. Chapter 5

This is not me, thought Betta as she looked down at her body clad in the sheer pink gown of a Maenad. The mirror Lady Lucrezia held up showed a lovely face layered with paint, framed by the long red locks of the wig that completed her costume. Her dark eyes were rendered mysterious and dazzling by the dark powder that circled them.

"Why Betta, you look quite beautiful!" Lucrezia's hand stroked down her arm and for a second Betta felt Lucrezia's warm breathe on her shoulder. Betta's startled eyes met her Lady's for an instant and something passed between them. A warm and liquid feeling blossomed in Betta's stomach but just as quickly Lady Lucrezia stepped back and busied herself arranging the voluminous folds of her dress. "Are you sure that you wish to do this? I could just as easily have one of the others.."

"I would not trust this to anyone else, my Lady."

Lady Lucrezia began pacing back and forth in the richly appointed chamber that had been her jail cell for the past couple of weeks. "Why do you serve me thus, so loyally even when it could cost you your life? If something goes wrong they could hang you!" Lucrezia was on the verge of tears, the stress of the past weeks and the fruition of their plans pushing her to a point where she seemed as fragile as glass. Betta was reminded that for all of her sophistication and beauty the lady had not yet reached her 22nd year.

The Betta who was not Betta for this night dared to enfolded her mistress in a hug. There were so many things that she could have told her mistress about why she was willing to risk her life to free them from this prison. How Lucrezia had granted her the greatest gift that she could imagine and seen her sister safely married. How she had found shelter from her father's unnatural attentions while she had served the family and what had begun as service had become love for Lucrezia and her son as Betta had tied her destiny to theirs. That the only good things in her life had come from being with them. "I know this will work, my lady. " Betta smiled and cocked her hip like the whores who waited to serve at the feast and pursed lips that were painted crimson "Let's teach this king a lesson."

Betta felt like she had been possessed for this night. Her walk was no longer the purposeful stride that had carried her through the palace halls. Instead her hips rolled and her unbound breasts swayed gently and she could feel the eyes of men on her as she floated into the banquet. She flirted with the guests and when she felt hands slipping into her robes she did not slap them away. Instead she laughed and smoldered and pouted. One of the whores came up to her and pressed their bodies and then their lips together to the delight of the men who encircled them, clamoring for wine. She had drugged the barrel with a vial she had hidden in her hair. "Don't put it between your tits. The way you look men will be fondling you before the night is out." The witch has cautioned her. Tubby little Bacchus had certainly sweated when he looked at her and Betta felt the rush of power at the hold she had over these men. This is what my lady has, she thought, the power to entrance men to doing her will not because they fear her but because they desired her. She filled glass after glass, teasing the guards who initially refrained from drinking until they toasted with the rest. Betta and her sisters of the night shared conspiratorial smiles as the guests began to drop off to sleep in their seats.

When the last of the guests finally rested in the arms of Morpheus the Maenads gathered and began to systematically remove any valuables that would not be missed. Betta ran to her lady's chamber and changed her gown as Nanny gathered up Giovanni and the other things they would need for the journey. Bernardino waited outside with the carriage and Betta smiled as she climbed up next to him and they sped away into the night. Bernardino had followed her around for days after she was attacked, begging for her forgiveness and at Lucrezia's suggestion she had offered him a place in their household if he would help them escape. Bernardino has no family left alive in the city and he had jumped at the chance to be away from the unhealthy atmosphere that had claimed so many of late. The guards stationed at the outer wall had been drugged courtesy of her friends among the poor in the city and her little spies reported that the way was clear to leave. The children smiled at the departing carriage with mouths that had been stuffed with sweets.

After the stifling confines of the palace Betta enjoyed the feeling of cool air on her face. Bernardino whipped the horses, seeking to put as much distance as possible between them and Naples before this night was out and when they heard the sound of men on the road ahead he pushed the horses still harder for they had no defense should they be pursued. It was a small company that they passed, moving fast, and there was something very familiar about the tall figure who effortlessly controlled the black stallion he was seated upon.

Lady Lucrezia screamed at them to stop and Betta turned to see her mistress jump out of the carriage and run back towards Lord Cesare, who hurtled towards her. When they met in the road Lord Cesare gathered Lucrezia in his arms and kissed her so hungrily that Betta felt that warmth she had experienced for the first time only this night flare to life in the pit of her stomach. And they did not break apart after that first passionate kiss. Instead it went on and on as the lovers seemed unaware that they were observed in an embrace that showed clearly to everyone what they truly were to one another. Betta's breathe caught and the pooling sensations between her thighs intensified.

Bernardino leaned over and whispered in her ear. "Isn't that.."

"Yes."

The former palace guard chuckled. "The prince does not look so happy to see his brother in law."

Lord Cesare would not release Lucrezia even to the safety of the carriage. After barking orders to the group of soldiers with him he lifted her up into the saddle of his enormous horse and then swung up behind her. Betta could not stop herself from glancing back at them even as she took Lucrezia's spot in the carriage. Lord Cesare's hand was startlingly white on Lucrezia's stomach in the blackness where he pressed her so firmly into him that they were molded into one from neck to knee. Betta could recognize the look on her lady's face now. She was beyond the point of caring who watched them and Betta forced herself to look away when Lucrezia gathered the folds of her cloak around her and she could no longer see the path that Lord Cesare's hand took.

The party arrived in Rome just as dawn was heralded by crowing roosters scattered through the city. Cesare lifted his sister down and together they disappeared into the shadowy halls of the Vatican. Betta thought that perhaps they found a secluded room in the Vatican to continue their reunion before the Holy Father, who was notoriously difficult to approach in the morning, was roused from slumber.

The end of the day saw the party settled in their new dwelling, a heavily fortified house that had been prepared against their arrival. Lucrezia summoned Betta to speak with Lord Cesare, who sat next to her loosely holding her hand.

'"Elizabetta." Lord Cesare smiled at her and Betta's heart stuttered momentarily as the force of his magnetic personality washed over her. "You served at my mother's home, did you not?"

"Yes my Lord."

"And then you came with us to the Vatican. You have proven yourself to my family and I owe you my thanks."

Betta could not help the blush that stained her cheeks a dark crimson and Lucrezia snickered slightly at her reaction. Cesare began playing with his sister's fingers, stroking the white digits with hands that had become calloused and rough from holding a sword but retained a similar elegant bone structure.

"My sister says that you were close to Micheletto while he was with you in Naples. And that you can be trusted."

Betta nodded and Lord Cesare told her the story of Micheletto and how he had been betrayed by his lover. "He killed the boy on my orders and then disappeared. Would you know of anywhere he might be found?"

Betta thought of the assassin, who had been her friend and protector.

"I might know where to begin looking for him. My lord, give me leave to search and if it is in my power I will bring him back to you."


	6. Chapter 6

Betta began her search for Micheletto in the slums of Rome, for she knew intuitively that he was somewhere within the warren of the ancient city, hiding amongst the crush of humanity. That morning she had shed the relative finery of her palace garb, which marked her out as the servant to a rich family, and wore instead a rough woolen dress that she had had borrowed from her sister.

Ginevra had been stunned to see Betta, hooded and masked when she crossed the threshold of the baker's home, for she had believed the story of her sister's death in Naples. Betta had embraced her younger sister, who glowed with the vitality of early pregnancy, and cautioned her to speak of the visit to no one. Betta's alliance with the Borgias placed her sister's family in constant danger and her supposed death had been orchestrated to spare them from becoming pawns in a game they were not equipped to play. Betta took her sister's oldest gown and left in its place a leather purse filled with coins that Betta had scrupulously saved over the months spent in Naples with a generous mistress.

Despite the change in clothing Betta still found herself the subject of intense stares as she walked towards the docks, where the stench of the ocean and fish and unwashed humanity made her eyes water. There were greedy little fingers that reached into her clothing and basket that she slapped away with reflexes honed by her time among the poor in Naples and the assassin's teachings.

As she stalked him through the streets Betta tried to reconcile the man she knew with what Lord Cesare had told her. That men could be lovers was no great shock to her, but the perfumed and curled young boys attached to the households of some rich men had no kinship to Micheletto. And if he was a lover of his own sex did that mean he was similarly attached to his master? Betta could certainly recognize the pull of Lord Cesare, a man who possessed extraordinary handsomeness and a force of personality that made anything seem possible.

She had begun the search in the dark tavern that Micheletto had directed her to and after speaking with men who had the same flat stares as the assassin she was forced to venture even deeper into the poorest section of the city. It was a place where people went when they had no hope and even the children looked death in the face daily with resignation. Betta spread the bounty of the Borgia family throughout the slums until finally she was shown to a small room let by a red headed man who had vanished into it a fortnight before and not seen again since.

She pushed into the room without bothering to announce her presence with a knock or word. Micheletto sat by the open window utterly still and quiet except for the dagger he turned over and over again in his fingers.

"Have you come to end my pain?" He still did not look at her although it was obvious he knew who it was.  
"Just to help, if I can." Betta waited to see if he would order her from the room. When he did not she sat her basket down and knelt at his feet. He was not the type to dull the edges of his grief with drink and he looked as though he had not eaten in days. The flesh that was normally stretched over lean sinewy muscle hung loosely and his eyes were deeply shrunken in his face and his hair hung longer and even more unkempt. When he finally looked her full in the face Betta twitched back as though struck.

She had never realized how empty his face normally was of expression until she saw it splintered into a thousand fragments held together by pain. It was a broken face, torn apart, but he had never been so dear to her as in that moment, stripped of his cold mask of indifference.

"Lord Cesare sent me to find you."

At the mention of his master Micheletto's face twisted and he rose. He had tried to move too quickly though for his face drained of color and he started to fall. Betta grabbed his shoulders as he swayed, his great strength giving out at last under the twin onslaughts of grief and self-induced deprivation. She led him to the mound of straw and blankets that served as a bed and pressed a flask filled with cool water to his lips until he relented and drank deeply.

Micheletto drifted in and out of consciousness for hours and the ensuing silence pressed too deeply into Betta's mind and she sought to fill it with words that came, first in a whisper, and then in a flood as she expunged her own demons to one who seemed only loosely tethered to life.

She found herself telling him things that she never thought to share with another human being. She spoke of the first time her father had raped her in a drunken stupor, thinking she was her dead mother, and then continued to rape her as he descended into depravity. How she had eventually found herself with child and the woman her father had drug her to had damaged her body so badly she was told afterwards that she could never bear children. She had only found respite when she was working in the Borgia household and had only had the strength to resist him when he had threatened her sister.

Once the words had begun to spill out they could not stop and Betta talked on and on. She spoke of when she had first seen the intensity of the bond between Cesare and Lucrezia Borgia. That seeing them together even when they were scarcely more than children, as she had herself been, was so painful and beautiful to watch. "They are like flames who always reach for one another," she said, and seeing that Micheletto now watched her face with eager anticipation she continued. Betta told him of the events that had occurred since he had left them in Naples and recounted the face of Prince Alfonso when he had seen his wife greet her brother on the road as though he were her own personal savior.  
"I would have killed you that first time we met, you know." His words were spoken after he had been silent for so long that his masculine voice seemed a shout in the darkened room. Night had begun to fall around them and Betta had no candle to illuminate the shadows.

Betta laughed. "I know."

"Then why are you trying to save me?"

"I would save you because you saved me. Because of you I am no longer ruled by fear, not of my father or any who could threaten those whom I love. My life is finally my own."

After a long moment Micheletto sighed. "I can not return to my lord's side. He would never trust me again and I would rather die then be a masterless dog."

Betta's voice came out low and intense for she knew that it was the loss of his beloved master's favor that fueled much of his grief. "You would leave him as he faces the greatest challenge of his life? He will march on Forli soon, yes? What will happen to the Borgias should he fail or on the day when the Holy Father is no longer there to protect them? What will become of my mistress and her child? Give Cesare Borgia the help he needs and then if you can no longer serve him be a ghost that watches over our family."

Micheletto looked at her for a long while and she could see that her words had made some impression. "I wish I could be other than I am. I could have been happy with you, I think."

"If our lives had been different perhaps we could have been happy together. Had a little farm somewhere and you could have grown grapes for wine and I could have kept a herd of goats and made cheese." The impossible sweetness of that dream made her smile as tears gathered in the corners of her eyes and spilled down her cheeks. "And our children would have had red hair and you could have terrified the young men of the area when they sought after our daughters."

The corner of Micheletto's mouth twitched. "My mother would have made you fat."

Betta laughed. "Undoubtedly."

She laid down next to him on the pallet. In the night he reached for her and she took him into her arms. The solace they found in each other was rooted in a deep need for the comfort that could only be provided by the warmth of another. Her body was the last gift that she could give to bring him back from the abyss of guilt and grief that he drowned in. There was no pretense of love between them, nor any great passion, but only a need to reassure one another that they were not alone. If, when he moved inside of her, there were tears that fell on her neck they could not be distinguished from the ones that she still shed.

When Betta woke in the morning Micheletto had fled, leaving behind only the stiletto he customarily wore at his belt to mark where his body had rested in the night. Betta understood that this token was the most meaningful gift he could have given her as well as an injunction to keep the family they both loved safe. She smiled and then examined her body in the morning light, seeing its beauty for the first time not as something to be ashamed of but instead as something to glory in, and she could share again if she wished. It was hers. There was no longer any evidence of the horrors she had experienced in its smooth contours and curves. She stretched, luxuriating in the memory of sensation, and then rose to return to her family.


	7. Chapter 7

Betta decided that Prince Alfonso of Naples would die the morning she returned to the palace after her night spent with Micheletto. The household had not begun to stir when she slipped through the gates and nodded at the guards, who looked at her with sleepy, bored eyes. She immediately sought out her mistress.

"Is that you Betta?" The lady moaned from beneath a mound of bedclothes. "I did not know that you had returned.

"I have only just arrived my lady," Betta said. "If you could send word to your brother."

"Were you able to find Micheletto?" Lady Lucrezia's eyes had still not opened. She was not a person best suited to early mornings. For the first hour after she roused from slumber the lady mumbled and squinted as though she were unused to the sight of the sun that streamed through the panelled windows. This morning when she sat up in the giant carved bed the sleeve of her shift slipped to reveal creamy shoulders marred by a five fingered bruise.

"Lady Lucrezia! Who has hurt you?" Lucrezia's eyes flew open and she looked down and saw the marks on her flesh. She jerked her sleeve back in place and tied the neckline more securely.

"My husband can be...overly affectionate when he is in his cups, and he find relief in the bottle more and more. But no matter. Tell me about Micheletto. Will he be returning soon?" Lucrezia seemed more embarrassed by the bruises than upset, as though on some level she felt that she deserved the treatment.

Betta temporarily shelved her anger since her mistress was plainly so eager to change the subject. "I know not if he shall return but he lives at least." Betta had a sudden vivid recollection of the strength of him when he moved inside of her and she shuddered, her cheeks flaming a bright crimson.

Lady Lucrezia's eyes snapped to Betta's face. "Betta?" The tone was a question.

Betta flushed still redder and cast her eyes to the ground. Lady Lucrezia hopped out of bed and grabbed Betta's wrists. "You shared his bed. I can tell, its all over your face. Tell me everything." Lady Lucrezia was more animated than Betta had seen her in a long time and seemed much younger.

"No my lady." But Betta could not control a small smile.

Lucrezia pouted for a second and although it seemed that she might press her further she only smirked mischievously for a second before asking "Tell me on thing, I pray. Did he match the promise I have always seen in his eyes?" From her smile Betta could tell that Lucrezia had never seriously contemplated Micheletto as a lover but there was a certain presence about the assassin that brought to mind the large cat that the Duke of Gandia had brought back from his trip to Spain. Dark, and deadly, but somehow more beautiful and alluring because of the danger. Betta could feel her blush grow even more intense as she remembered hands that could easily have taken her life moving down her body and rousing sensations in her that she had not known existed.

Lady Lucrezia laughed. "No matter, I can see the answer plainly on your face. I will send for my brother soon and you can share your tale with him."

"Not the whole tale, my lady." Betta had never smirked lasciviously in her life but the effort must have been successful for Lady Lucrezia dissolved into a fit of giggles.

Her duties occupied Betta for the remainder of the day and she was shocked to see the degeneration that had taken place in Prince Alfonso in the time since they had returned to Rome. Maria whispered to her the events of the previous night, when the master had called Lady Lucrezia the daughter of a whore and a degenerate in full view of the servants and then drug her roughly to bed.

Betta was awoken that night in the little room that she shared with Nanny by the sound of drunken cursing coming from Lady Lucrezia's chamber. She could hear Giovanni, who still shared his mother's chamber, begin to cry in the darkness but Nanny did not move and Betta could see fear in the woman's eyes.

"Why is that little bastard crying?" The Prince's voice was slurred with drink.

"Leave him be Alfonso."

Betta left her bed and keeping to the shadows she crept to the door and peered into the room. Lucrezia was standing in front of Giovanni's cot trying to keep her husband from coming any closer to the child but even as slim and drunk as the Prince was she could not restrain him.

"What no kiss for your husband?" Alfonso dropped the bottle of wine that he had been holding and seized his wife, dragging her away from the child. "You kiss your brother readily enough." He pushed her onto the bed and ripped the front of her robe open, exposing her breasts, which he began to fondle roughly.

Betta stole in, using the darkness as cover as Micheletto had taught her. She caught Lucrezia's eyes, which were running with tears, and understood from the Lady's frantic look at her son what she must do. Making no more noise than a ghost she wrapped the child in her arms and smiled at him as she fled. Giovanni loved Betta, and with her arms around him he ceased crying and snuggled deeper into the blankets. She crept from the room and went to Nanny. Together they ran down the stairs to a small room in the back of the palace that was usually reserved for servants.

"He will not look for you here." Betta told Nanny, whose eyes were round and terrified.

Betta had not realized she was grasping the knife that Micheletto had left her until she stepped back into the room where Prince Alfonso continued to berate his weeping wife as he pawed at her. "Tell me wife, how long have you been spreading your legs for your dear brother?" He pressed in between her legs and ground into her. "And your Holy Father too? Am I the only one that you will not fuck willingly?"

Lucrezia struck out with her hands but she was powerless against his strength. "Please stop, this is not like you." She cried, and tried to move away from him.

"I saw it from the beginning, you know, when you danced with him. I saw the way you looked at him and how he looked at you but I thought I must be mistaken. How could even a Borgia," he said her name like it was the most vile curse "fornicate with her own brother?" The Prince was crying now too, even as he tried to unlace his codpiece. "I thought you were different but you are a whore just like they said. Is Giovanni his son? Is the Infans Romanus your nephew as well as your son and that's why you had to have him by your side?"

Betta found her mistress's eyes in the light of the flickering candle and could read hopeless desperation in the gray depths. Betta recognized the feeling, and a killing rage blanketed her thoughts in a red haze. Not a knife, Betta thought with the cold voice of logic that was completely separate from the emotion that sent blood pounding through her body. Micheletto had cautioned her to avoid the obvious kill unless it was absolutely necessary. She could almost hear him whispering in her ear, telling her what to do.

"Do you love him?" Alfonso roared, demonic in his drunken rage. "Is that why you will not love me?" The Price continued to shout and his words were poison. Lucrezia flinched as though struck, his words more deadly to her than the hands that continued to grasp her flesh with bruising strength. "I have bought and paid for you, whore, and I am going to have you."

Betta grabbed a water jug from a stand and crept up on the pair struggling on the bed. She brought the heavy piece of pottery down on the Prince's head, rendering him unconscious with a vicious blow. She grabbed his booted foot and pulled him from the bed, uncaring that his bleeding head struck the ground with a wet sound. She crawled on the bed and gathered Lucrezia in her arms and rocked her as the other woman cried. "My fault." the lady whispered again and again. "Its all my fault."

"Shall he die, my lady?" Betta asked, stroking the blond curls. "If his head struck the stone hard enough he would never hurt you again."

"You would kill him?" Lucrezia still cried but she gathered the pieces of her robe together and stood, looking at the man she had married. In his unconscious state he looked almost innocent once again.

"He should die for this." Betta gritted out from between her teeth. She held the knife so tightly that the knuckles on her hand were white. She wanted his death, wanted to feel the lifeblood pouring out of him and spill over her hands.

"You must not kill him." Lucrezia said. "I will not have his death on my conscious. He is, after all, what I have created." Her voice was hollow with sadness as she looked at Alfonso. Betta thought that she must be seeing him as he had first appeared to her, as gallant and handsome as a young knight.

Betta nodded but was careful not to promise to spare the Price from harm. The next time he touched the Lady he would die for it, no matter that it would make her own life forfeit. A life for a life, she thought.

She went over to the water stand and pushed it over. "My lady, if you would assist me?" She grabbed the prince by his arms and she and her lady dragged him over to lay next to the overturned stand and she placed the water jug near his head. The injury to his head would incapacitate the prince for enough time to consider the best course of action.

Cesare Borgia was occupied with the preparations for moving his army to Forli and it was several days before he could visit the heavily guarded palace and speak to Betta. It had been a very quiet interlude as the Prince recovered from the fall and his wife attended him solicitously. Prince Alfonso made no more attempts against Lady Lucrezia but he continued to drink heavily and watch her and the child with sullen, resentful eyes.

When Lord Cesare finally visited the house Betta frantically cast about for a reason to speak to him in private. The timing of his arrival was fortuitous. Lucrezia was called away to Giovanni's side for the child had a fever and cried when he was not in his mother's arms and the master of the house had left earlier, promising to find his wife some bauble that would show his gratitude for her tender care during his injury. No one expected to see him before dawn and Betta suspected that Lord Cesare's visit had been timed so that he would not encounter Prince Alfonso.

Lord Cesare took Betta's hand and seated her in a chair opposite his own when she was summoned. Lord Cesare watched her closely as she related the story of how she had found Micheletto but had been unable to persuade him to return to his Lord's side.

"Elizabetta, is there something else the matter?" He leaned closer to her and Betta could not control the small flutter she felt when the full force of his eyes pierced her.

"My Lord?"

"Your hands grip the chair with fingers made white and you keep looking to see if my sister returns. I do not believe it is fear of me that has you in this state. Is there something you wish to tell me?"

Betta had decided to share her knowledge with the former cardinal. "My lord, I do not wish to betray my Lady's confidence but I must speak. Your sister suffers greatly at the hands of her husband. He must die, and soon."

Lord Cesare stilled, and Betta read the cold promise of death in his eyes. "Suffers how, exactly?" His tone was so courteous that he might have been inquiring about any number of inconsequential things. Betta told him the events of the previous nights and what she had learned from the other servants. She could only admire the iron control that kept a neutral expression on his face and his muscles relaxed despite the fury he must be feeling.

"If he tries to rape her again kill him and I will see that you do not suffer for it. I will make preparations to deal with him in such a way that it will not besmirch my sisters honor." Lord Cesare took Betta's hand, roughened from years of work, and brought it to his lips. "I am in your debt."


	8. Chapter 8

Betta could feel death approaching that night. Violence had scented the air like incense since Lord Cesare had returned victorious with the Tiger of Forli in chains and Betta knew that the plan to free Lucrezia Borgia from her husband would soon be put into motion.

The entire household could feel it in the air. Lady Lucrezia cried in her rooms deep into the night and ignored Papal guards who brought messages and gifts from her Holy Father. Giovanni, normally a sweet natured child, cried at the slightest provocation until all of their nerves were frayed from lack of sleep. The servants scurried around like mice at their duties, afraid to make a noise or cause a disturbance. Betta made sure that when she saw Lord Cesare and an unknown man approaching that she hastily sent Bernardino into another part of the city to find his rest. Only the master of the house seemed oblivious to the coming storm as he celebrated his impeding freedom from the guards who watched his every movement.

The events of that night unfolded like a mummers play before her eyes as she watched from the stairs that overlooked the balcony. The fight, the thrust of a sword in the dark, and the shrill screams of the Prince as he lay dying. A physician was sent for but Betta could see from the wound that pierced the prince's back that it was fruitless. Alfonso begged his wife between bouts of screaming and cursing to spare him the pain he had brought by attacking first his wife and then Cesare Borgia.

Betta remained in the shattered room when her lady returned with a small vial. She supported the Prince's head as he eagerly drank from the golden goblet which would end both his life and his pain. Betta watched Lucrezia carefully, ready to strike the cup from her hands should she show any signs of trying to follow her husband in death but the lady only wept, tears tracking ceaselessly down cheeks that were smeared with blood. Lucrezia kissed him and laid her head next to her husband as he slipped from life. They lay like carved effigies side by side, and Betta thought that this was how they would have looked had they spent their lives together and been interred at some church in Salerno or Naples. Carved effigies of a handsome Prince and his beautiful, noble wife that could have provided some comfort to grieving children and grandchildren.

Lord Cesare found them thus, and it seemed that he too thought that Lady Lucrezia might have ended her anguish with a desperate act for he threw himself across the bed and took his sister into his arms. Betta could not hear the words that passed between them but Lord Cesare's eyes found hers across the chamber and he asked that warm water and a cloth be brought. She brought them and then slipped back into the shadows from which he had called her. He seemed to forget her existence as he tended to Lucrezia. He cleansed her, wiping the stains of blood and sin from her flesh and whispering words in her ear that brought her back to life. The word "mine" filled the silence like a shout, and his dark head leaned forward to take her lips in a kiss that was as gentle as the touch of the sun in the springtime. His lips followed the path of the cloth, marking and claiming the white skin until Lucrezia moved like water under his hands. Cesare untied the cord that held her heavy robe together and loosed the neckline of her shift. He trailed the cloth down over her shoulders, to the swell of her breasts, and then down to her arms and hands. Lucrezia's eyes were on him now, watching the movements of his hands upon her skin until he threw the bloodied rag aside and brought her lips to his mouth. Lucrezia's hands fisted in the dark curls of his hair as he kissed her, and her eyes flashed like jewels when he left her mouth and began pressing hungry, open mouthed kisses down the length of her throat. Lord Cesare pulled back from her minutely to rise from the bed. He effortlessly swept her into his arms and strode from the room into the adjoining chamber. The heavy door closed with the weight of two bodies pressing into it and crashed into the frame as they came together again and again.

Betta wondered if her eyes glittered like theirs had, for blood fired in her veins as she listened to the muffled shouts of pleasure that emanated from beyond. She went to the window and opened it, letting the cool night breeze fan across her flushed cheeks and dispel the lingering miasma of death and blood that filled the room. There was a slight movement in the street and Betta saw that Micheletto had emerged from the shadows and was watching her, as she had known he must be.

He was not the only ghost this night, she thought, drifting down the stairs like an unhoused spirit until she stood in front of the assassin and drew him deeper into the alley and whispered into his ear the events of that night. The heated images would not leave her mind and her breathe came shallow and rapid as she recounted the fight and the death, and how Lord Cesare had removed Lady Lucrezia's bloodstained clothing and then carried her to the next room. Micheletto's expression did not change but Betta recognized the fire that kindled in his eyes for it was burning though her as well. She wanted nothing so much as to sink her fingers into his flesh and take him as he had taken her only a few nights before. Micheletto picked her up and pressed her against the wall and she could feel the texture of the ancient stone at her back and his teeth biting into the skin of neck. She had to stifle a scream as her body seized in pleasure when he roughly came inside of her.

Micheletto rested his forehead against hers as their breathing slowed and the tremors of shared passion dissipated. "What is it about you that chains me to life when I want nothing so much as to sink into the abyss?"

Betta brought her hand up to caress his cheek. "I know not, but I am glad for it." She bid the assassin farewell and returned to the palace where she tried to repair some of the damage that had been wrought that night. Lord Cesare sought her out as she washed splatters of blood from the marble staircase. He took in her still flushed face and the hair that had come unbound and streamed down her back. His nostrils twitched like a hound scenting prey and he smiled. "Micheletto still watches over us, I see."

"From the shadows, my lord, for now at least."

Cesare's hand patted her shoulder. "I will take Lucrezia and Giovanni to the Vatican and send people to prepare the body in the morning. If you would, watch over it until then."

"Yes, my lord." Betta said. The rest of the servants had been sent away earlier that night except for herself and Alfonso's manservant, who had arrived recently from Naples. Betta disliked the little rat faced man intensely, for he was both cowardly and stupid. Jacobo had brought the Prince bottle after bottle of wine during his confinement, never bothering to dilute it with water, or even attempt to urge the Prince towards moderation. She found him cowering in the servants quarters and brought him into the room where the Prince lay. Together they removed his bloodstained garments and readied the body for the grave.

The Prince was so small and looked so innocent in death that Betta felt a rush of pity for the boy who had been utterly destroyed. She whispered a prayer for his soul as they washed the blood from his body. Betta moved through the room gathering the remnants of the fight to save the Prince's life and threw them in the fire as Jacobo dressed the body in a fresh doublet and hose.

"I will go to the King... and tell him what happened. Oh, he will not be best pleased by what happened to his cousin, no no no." Jacobo mumbled to himself, seeming oblivious to her presence.

"Tell him what exactly? " Betta asked softly, continuing to dispose of the bloody bandages that littered the room.

Jacobo glanced at her and smiled maliciously. Like his master Jacobo had never bothered to learn who served Lady Lucrezia or how long they had been attached to the Borgia family. "Why that the Prince was killed by that Borgia bitch and her brother. A nice fat reward will come to me I should think." He turned around again and bent to his task.

The knife was in her hand and sliding between the bony ridges of the man's neck before he had time to draw another breath. He crumpled over the Prince and Betta used rags stained with royal blood to staunch the trickle that seeped from the small, neat wound. Death did not wait long to claim him and Betta went to the window and signalled to Micheletto, who nodded with approval when he saw the elegant cut. Together they removed the body from the palace before the sun could hint at the approaching dawn and draped him over the back of a horse that would carry it to the banks of the Tiber. It was only after the assassin had left that Betta realized she had killed for the first time, and with no more difficulty than cutting the head off a chicken. Suddenly cold, Betta rubbed her arms briskly before returning to the palace and her vigil at the dead man's side.


	9. Chapter 9

Betta smoothed the hair back from her lady's sweaty face as she leaned over a basin and vomited. It was the second morning in as many days that Lucrezia Borgia had awoken with the need to void her stomach and Betta could see the knowledge that she had begun to suspect yesterday shining in the lady's eyes.

"I am with child again. His child." Betta was not surprised by this development. Cesare Borgia had visited his sister every night since the death of Prince Alfonso and from her room Betta could hear the sounds made as they loved one another well into the night. It was as if a whole lifetime of restraint and denial had to be expunged in a few weeks of utter abandon.

"Yes my lady," and Betta held her as Lucrezia laughed and cried by turns. When the tears had stopped Betta closed the doors and sat close to her mistress as they talked through what would need to happen to protect their family. They could not stay in Rome, of that there was no question. Despite their many faults the people of Rome could at the very least figure the normal duration of a pregnancy, especially with a presumed father lately put in the grave. Lady Lucrezia took to her bed after they had formulated a plan, and a message was sent to Lord Cesare and the Holy Father to attend her in the next few days.

Betta prepared Lady Lucrezia's belonging for travel in the room next to her chamber and she could hear the conversations from the steady stream of visitors through the open windows. Vanozza brought gifts and loving words for her daughter and Giovanni and if she harbored suspicions about the parentage of her impending grandchild she did not voice them. Guilia Farnese arrived in a cloud of jasmine scent and her visit, although brief, made Lucrezia dissolve in laughter again and again as the other woman recounted the gossip that was currently being whispered throughout Rome, most of which involved the Borgia name.

Cesare Borgia was preparing for his next military campaign and he arrived, dusty and smelling of sweat and horse, as a warm afternoon was just beginning to cool into dusk. When he entered Betta remembered a fortnight before when her sister had been brought to the palace by Papal Guards. Ginevra had been almost fainting in terror to appear before Il Valentino, as he was now called, and could not utter a word of thanks to the Duke for his generous gift to her family. When Betta had refused any reward for protecting Lady Lucrezia he had purchased a tiny home and gifted it to her sister, who was shortly to deliver her first child. Ginevra had been overcome and had to be led away to a dark room to recover lest the shock harm her child.

"Am I so terrifying?" He asked Betta with a slight smile after Ginevra had been escorted back to her home.

"Yes, my lord," Betta answered with complete sincerity. His hand in the death of Prince Alfonso was widely known and it had only increased his renown as a prince of singular ruthlessness. His only softening influence, the only one who could temper his monumental drive, would be absent for the forthcoming year and the Papal States waited in breathless anticipation to see the direction of his next campaign.

Cesare and Lucrezia Borgia made no noise for a long while as they greeted one another, and Betta knew that her mistress clung to him as she imagined the pain of their coming separation. Their voices were whispers in the approaching twilight that only became intelligible as they discussed the need for her to journey from Rome.

"I must go to Nepi. Already our father begins to plot my next marriage and I would forestall that, if only for a while. After the child is born I will be forced to marry again, I have no doubt."

"You would agree to belong to another man?" Cesare asked her with a note of incredulity in his voice.

"We have only ever belonged to one another, as you well know. But you must be about winning your kingdom and I will go to have our child in secret so that it may have a name."

"There is more to it then that. Tell me, my love." As always his voice was a caress when he spoke to her.

"If I stay too long what we are to one another will no longer be just a whisper. And I would not have you blame the person I love above all else for that infamy."

"A better man than I could have resisted you." Self loathing was evident in his voice.

"I never wanted a better man. I only wanted you."

There was no more words for a long time after that, as though the inevitable goodbye must begin now and the brush of lips upon flesh was the only thing that could assuage the pain of loss yet to come.

Il Valentino was gone in the morning although Betta had not heard him depart. Lady Lucrezia slept through most of the morning and began her own preparations to travel into the mountains to the small holding she had been granted years before. The Holy Father arrived with all the pomp of a royal visit, carried by a litter through crowds that begged for his blessing. Betta, knowing the path that this conversation must take, unashamedly listened at the crack in the door when Rodrigo Borgia was ushered into his daughter's apartments.

Alexander barely paused to inquire after the health of his daughter before launching into his plans for her next marriage.

"My daughter, our Papacy is in a difficult state right now and we will need another alliance to ensure our continued stability, especially considering the way in which your husband died. Already this morning I have had to listen to the delegations from Naples and they are screaming for his killer to be found."

"If I marry again it will be to a man of my own choosing." Lucrezia had lost the doting affection that had colored her speech when she spoke to her father but he did not seem to notice the change in her demeanor.

"I am your father and you will marry as our needs dictate." The Holy Father's voice, normally a husky velvet that was the most attractive part of him, shook with anger. "Need I remind you that Alfonso was your own choice?"

"Remarriage after you sold me to Giovanni Sforza was not my choice." Lady Lucrezia's voice dripped with ice and Betta recalled the dark days she had spent in Rome while her mistress had suffered at the hands of her husband. Lucrezia had left for Pesaro a carefree, beautiful child. She had returned colder, darker, and a Borgia in more than name. "Attempt to barter me off again like a prize mare I will proclaim you the father of the child I am now carrying instead of the sole grandfather. " Lucrezia Borgia's voice was utterly flat.

There was a sound like a person falling into a chair. "You are with child again?" Rodrigo whispered horsely.

"Oh yes."

"And Alfonso..." Rodrigo Borgia seemed incapable of completing the sentence.

"Is not the father." Lady Lucrezia said. "I will soon be departing from Rome. I go to Nepi and mourn the passing of my husband and have what the world will know as his child."

"Are we to have no say in this?" The Holy Father blustered.

"None. If you force my hand I will reveal the true father of this child and cause a scandal that even your most holy papacy will not survive. When I return we can revisit the matter of alliances. Now if you will excuse me I have endless preparations to see to." Betta busied herself down the hall as Lady Lucrezia swept from the room.

The Holy Father mumbled as he walked away "Only grandfather? What scandal? Surely not, I must be mistaken." He did not ride out to bid his daughter farewell as the procession of wagons and the armed escort left the city for the the mountains of Nepi. He was, Betta surmised, rather cross with the daughter who seemed so intent on thwarting his will.

Cesare Borgia journeyed with them until the walls of the city began to fade into the distance. His army awaited their commander on another road that would take them to the Romagna. Micheletto rode beside his master openly once more but he would accompany Lady Lucrezia .

"Send me word when your time draws near. I will come to you." Cesare whispered . He gathered Lucrezia into his arms and embraced her tightly. He kissed her forehead and breathed in her scent deeply, as though memorizing it for the months ahead. When his mouth pressed one last lingering kiss to her cheek Betta had to turn away from a moment that seemed impossibly intimate. Lord Cesare pulled a mask over his face before he mounted his horse and galloped away. Lady Lucrezia brushed away the tears that slipped down her cheeks until he disappeared from view.

They traveled slowly and Betta rode beside Lady Lucrezia in the wagon. Giovanni had become a very active toddler and it took the combined talents of his mother, Nanny, and Betta to keep the child occupied until an ancient tower came into view.

Their arrival in Nepi was a cause of celebration to citizens of the town. Lady Lucrezia was ceremonially given the keys to the city gates and the contrast between the rumors of her misdeeds and her delicate appearance and manner made the people love her. Lady Lucrezia wore a veil and a simple black dress that had been subtly gathered to make her pregnancy appear more advanced but the subdued color did not detract from her beauty. The somberness of her gown only emphasized the delicate blond curls and skin that glowed with the radiance of impending motherhood. Festively dressed people crowded the road and threw rose petals before them. Some of the brilliant spots of color fluttered down from the balconies and caressed Betta's skin before falling to the ground. The petals were crushed beneath the hooves of the horses, perfuming the air with a heady fragrance. Betta had to suppress a shiver as the bright crimson petals clung to Lady Lucrezia, staining her gown with spots of color that looked like blood.


	10. Chapter 10

"Betta." Micheletto approached her noiselessly, appearing in the hall when she left Lady Lucrezia's side for the night. Micheletto had been gone from Nepi for many weeks and Betta had stopped trying to predict his comings and goings. He would appear like a shadow, watching Lady Lucrezia walk through the courtyard of the ancient tower, and then he would be gone like the ghost she had once asked him to be. They walked in silence together until they found a corridor in the dusty castle where they could speak in private.

"My mother is dying." His voice was deeper then normal but his face did not betray any emotion. Betta did not reply, knowing from her own life that nothing said could ease the loss. She squeezed his arm and waited for him to continue.

Micheletto shifted his weight fractionally from one foot to the other in an almost imperceptible movement that caught her attention simply because it was so uncharacteristic. Micheletto was a master at the silent stalk of a predator and Betta did not think she had ever seen him move with less than fluid grace. Betta realized with astonishment that he was nervous.

"Would you journey to Forli with me? I have told my mother that I have a woman here that is dear to me and she wishes to meet you before she passes."

"You wish me to meet your mother?" Betta asked in surprise. They had never discussed the exact nature of their relationship and this seemed to suggest a greater intimacy than she would have expected of him.

Micheletto turned away from her, equal parts angry and embarrassed. "It is no matter."

"Of course I will come with you. Let me speak to my Lady. We must leave and return quickly for she grows great with child and I must be present when her time comes."

Lucrezia readily gave her permission and provided two swift mounts that would carry them through the mountains to Micheletto's homeland. Betta had assumed she would be travelling by wagon, as she had in all the journeys that she had taken since leaving Rome. When she saw two spirited animals being loaded with provisions for the journey she flatly refused to mount until Micheletto gravely asked if her Ladyship would prefer a litter with velvet cushions for the rigors of travel.

Betta detested riding. The few times that she had been forced to mount she clutched at the animal in terror that she would fall off and be trampled by huge hooves that seemed both too far away and much too close. Micheletto watched her ride with ill concealed amusement for the first hour and then suggested that perhaps he should instruct her on some of the finer points of horsemanship so they would arrive at Forli before the change of the seasons. Her riding skills marginally improved with his tutelage but she did not think she would ever enjoy riding a horse the way Lady Lucrezia seemed to. Betta maintained a wary peace with the animal that carried her through the rough terrain on the ancient road to Forli by sneaking the roan gelding handfulls of oats from the bag whenever Micheletto was otherwise occupied.

"I hate horses. How Lady Lucrezia is able to race around on that monster of hers defies belief." Betta grumbled as she tried to rub feeling back into her legs after a particularly taxing day spent in the saddle.

"Perhaps because she is used to a more dangerous mount." Micheletto's voice did not change but when she looked at him there was humor lurking in the depths of his dark blue eyes. Betta snorted with laughter and then clapped her hand over her mouth in horror at the coarse sound, which made Micheletto laugh outright.

They travelled together as husband and wife, staying at inns where they were available and on pallets made by their cloaks and blankets when they were not. As the neared their destination they stopped for the night in the crumbled remains of an ancient villa where the silence was unbroken save for the small noises made by the wild animals nested among the stones. The small fire cast a golden glow on his features and Betta rested her head on her arm and watched him in the shifting light. The smoke from the fire was something she experienced every day of her life but under the blanket of stars the woody fragrance was a thing of beauty and mystery as it spiralled into the dark night.

"Every time I leave Forli I hope to never return." He finally said, breaking his silence. As they travelled through the Romagna his mood had darkened and he took refuge in silence more and more.

"Was it so difficult for you here?" She asked.

"Everything that I am was created here. My father..." For a long while he did not continue and Betta waited, understanding the compulsion to confess but not sure if he was ready to do so. Micheletto's voice was nothing but a horse whisper when he continued. "He would use me for his plaything and then beat me until I could not stand. I know not which he enjoyed more."

"How did it end?" she questioned, but she already knew the answer. The man who lay next to her would never have let such acts to go unpunished.

"I strangled him when we returned from a battle when I was fourteen years of age. He was a mercenary, skilled with a sword, and I fought beside him in every conflict from the time I was old enough to hold a knife. I wept as he struggled, but whether it was with relief or sorrow I do not know." She could picture it so clearly in her mind and her heart grieved for his pain. "Went to Rome after that. I sold my skill with a knife when I could and my body when I could not." Micheletto lapsed into silence, consumed by the dark memories. Eventually he turned to face her again.

"What of you, my Elizabetta? Are you going to take that boy who follows you around like a stray dog to your bed?"

Betta was not surprised that Micheletto knew she had thought about taking Bernardino, who had accompanied them to Nepi, as a lover. The tower where they sojourned was lonely, and Lady Lucrezia had withdrawn more into the private spaces of her mind as her time to deliver the child drew near. Bernardino was an amusing companion but the only time she had let him put hands on her the experience had been so unremarkable that they had agreed to remain friends. He was now often to be seen in the company of a girl from the town. "No. Nothing in him calls to me."

"Do I call to you?" he asked, moving on top of her and pinning her arms above her head in a move that left her a supplicant beneath him.

"Yes," she cried, and cried again when he took her, although not in pain.

They arrived in Forli the next day. Micheletto's mother had the look of someone who had once been solidly built but the illness that was claiming her life had stolen the flesh from her bones in preparation for the grave. Her grey hair lay tightly braided with only a hint of the vivid red that she had passed on to her son remaining and her eyes were the same deeply set dark blue. She lay on a bed that had been moved in front of the fire, shivering despite the heat, and every few minutes a spasm of coughing would leave her with blood on her lips and gasping for breath. Micheletto's younger sister was a timid creature who lovingly tended her mother but after they arrived the dying woman only had eyes for her son.

"Mama, I have brought Betta to meet you." Micheletto knelt by the side of the bed and touched his mother's hands with infinite gentleness. Maria Corella smiled and cupped his cheek with her gnarled fingers. "My boy, come home to see his mother one last time." Micheletto wiped the tears from her eyes.

"Betta. Elizabetta?" The woman asked and Betta nodded. " Come closer child so I can get a look at you." She studied Betta's face and then grasped one of her hands, running her fingers over calluses created by years of hard work. "Pretty, and a good worker too. Where did my son find such a woman?"

"I serve one of the great families of Rome, but my Lady is travelling and gave me leave to accompany Micheletto."

Maria watched Betta with eyes that were sharp and probing despite the pain that twisted her mouth. She talked with Micheletto about his life in Rome before sending him from the house so that she and Betta "could talk without you disturbing us."

"So, you are my son's lover?" Betta smiled at the woman's bluntness but made no reply.  
"You will have to forgive me, what they give me for the pain has dulled my wits and loosened my tongue."

Betta told the dying woman an edited account of her association with Micheletto. Maria listened raptly and asked no questions that Betta could not answer. When Betta finished her tale Maria plucked at the blanket that was spread over her wasted flesh.

"I would that you could have seen him when he was a baby. The most beautiful red curls."

"I can not imagine Micheletto as a child." Betta said honestly, with a laugh in her voice.

"The loveliest of my children, and the sweetest. Michael Corella" she spat his name like a curse "destroyed him, and may the devil roast his parts over an open flame for all eternity."

"Micheletto's father?"

Maria nodded, the movement of her head starting another coughing fit that almost had Betta running to fetch Micheletto back. "Twisted that sweet little boy until there was hardly anything left. I was so glad when Micheletto killed him." She wheezed, watching Betta's face. "Told you about that already I see. Good."

"Do you know what he did to Micheletto?" Betta could not keep the anger from her voice, even if it was directed at a woman who would soon face judgement. If her mother had lived Betta knew that her father would never dared to touch one of his daughters. Her mother handled knives with the dexterity of one who had spent her whole life in the kitchen; she would have carved her husband from ear to ear and never shed a tear.

"Yes I knew. I saw him forcing himself on my boy when the lad was scarcely ten years old. Like a coward I ran but he saw me. He beat me so hard that night that it cracked two of my ribs and I could not move for days. Michel Corella always made sure to beat me where no one would see the marks. I went to the priest but he told me to obey my husband and that we were his to do with as he wished. Found out later he liked the same sport. Went to Michael's father but he said he would crack the other ribs for saying such filthy things about his son and that he would see me dead if I ever spoke of it again."

"You could have killed him." Betta said softly. She heard the softest imaginable footsteps and knew that Micheletto had returned and listened where his mother could not see him.

"Thought about it, tasted it, wanted it so badly for years. But they would have burned me, and my children would have been left with no one."Another coughing fit wracked her body. "I know he lies to me. I know what he does in Rome and about...his lovers. A mother always knows. But it makes him happy to lie to me about these things so I pretend to believe them. I thought at first you were another lie but you care for him." Her eyes were enormous in her shrunken face.

Betta nodded, not trusting herself to speak. The complexities off her relationship with the assassin were too difficult to try to explain, even to herself.

"Good. Then I can rest easy knowing my son is not alone in this world."

Maria Corella died during the night, slipping from life in her sleep while Betta and Micheletto slept nearby in a bed made from their cloaks and a heavy woollen blanket that was at least fifty years old. They laid her in the ground the next morning. The priest, a very young man whose robes must have only recently been laid across his back, fumbled over the simple words of the funeral rite but the few who were in attendance at the grave did not seem to mind. An old man stumbled close to the graveyard but then seemed to think the better of it and headed back to the tavern he had come from. Betta, noticing Micheletto's stiffness as he looked at the old man, marked his face in her mind and followed his movements out of the corner of her eye. A tall, dark haired man who attended the burial exchanged a single heated glance with Micheletto that seemed taunt with meaning.

The rest of the day was spent moving Maria's meagre belongings to her daughter's home. Micheletto kept only a simple golden cross that he'd given to her years before. They spent one more night in the home where Micheletto had been born, laying on their makeshift bed in the empty room. Betta noticed his increased restlessness as the night progressed, and the furtive glances at the door.

"There is someone who waits for you here." Betta whispered in his ear. Micheletto did not respond but his body tensed.

"Go. You do not have to hide what you are from me." He drew her close for a second before he disappeared through the door.

"My grandfather died last night." Micheletto watched Betta out of the corner of his eye as they guided the horses down the road to Nepi. Betta kept her face smooth as stone, waiting to see his reaction.

"Someone cut his throat when he returned home late in the night. He bled out slowly."

Betta arranged her face into lines that she hoped would convey sympathy. "Tragic"

Micheletto quirked his eyebrow slightly as he looked at her. "Next time take the purse so it will appear a robbery." She nodded and nothing more was said on the subject during their return to Nepi.


	11. Chapter 11

Note- I am going to dedicate this to my 11 year old daughter, Izzy, who gave me the idea of using the events of her birth as the basis for this chapter. Not that she is allowed to read this, of course!

Betta rubbed her hands across her throbbing temples as she wound her way through the castle of Nepi, searching for Micheletto. The ache there made her teeth grind at every burst of raucous laughter or shout that emanated from the crowded yard that hummed with life. Betta had existed in a state of perpetual anxiety since she had returned from Forli and found that that Lady Lucrezia had been confined to her bed for the remainder of her pregnancy because of crippling headaches and lights that she said flashed behind her eyes. She finally found Micheletto leaning against the battlements of the castle, looking towards the south where his master fought a bloody campaign to unite the whole of Italy under one banner. He smiled when he saw her coming but her emotions must have shown on her face for he jumped to his feet and walked to meet her.

"What has happened?" He demanded, tucking a stray lock of hair, torn by the gusting wind from her neat braid, behind her ear

"You must ride for Lord Cesare now, this very minute. The child has dropped in the womb." She grabbed his hand and tugged him down the narrow stone stairs, kicking at a stray chicken that scratched in the dirt.

"What does that mean?" he asked as they sped to the stables after she gathered provisions for his journey.

"The child has dropped lower in her belly, and the midwife says the birth will come soon. She is worried, Micheletto, and I fear.." The words choked off with a sob. "It is too soon, Micheletto." Childbirth was always dangerous but she had seen the face of the midwife, an enormously practical woman who had been selected both for her reputation as a mid wife and her disinclination to gossip, as she had examined her mistress. The look she had given Betta made panic seize her throat and she had to choke off all the words that wanted to scream out.  
Micheletto kissed her cheek and then sped off in a flurry of dust and hooves. She knew that he would ride as swiftly as he was able, not stopping until he reached his master on the field of battle. Betta watched him go and then returned to her lady's side as she fought her own battle.

Lady Lucrezia was not oblivious to the tension that had gripped those around her. When the pains finally came in the middle of a cold night three days later she sent everyone from the room and motioned Betta close, whispering instructions into her ear that made her cry out in shock.

"No my lady, I can not do as you ask."

Lucrezia gripped her hands with a strength born of desperation. "You promised to aid me in any way that I require. If I die you will do this for me. You must swear it." Tears fell from eyes like storm clouds as she pleaded. "Please, Betta. Not because I am your mistress, but because you are the truest friend I have ever had and I would not trust this to anyone but you." Betta cried as she agreed to the plan that Lady Lucrezia had been formulating during the weeks she had been confined to bed.

Betta had been present at the birth of her younger sister and several cousins and she was able to assist the midwife, Zita. Nuns skilled in healing had also been brought from the local convent and the sister's quiet prayers leant a calm atmosphere to the stuffy, crowded room. When Lucrezia's water finally broke free of the womb Betta shared the consternation of the midwife as it poured forth, soaking the bed and the linens. The tried to move Lucrezia to the birthing stool when the pains came fast and hard but her mistress was no longer able to rise from the bed without faintness overtaking her. Time slowed to a crawl, measured by pain and the screams that her lady could no longer contain. Many hours later the child finally crested, and as it slid wetly into the world Betta could see that the baby's arm was wrapped around its throat. The elbow had sliced, and a fountain of blood baptized the screaming boy who lay in the midwife's arms.

"A boy, my lady." Betta said, and took the child from the midwife, who moved very fast when she saw the river of red that was further soaking the bed sheets. Betta handed the child to one of the silent nuns. Zita pressed cloth between Lucrezia's legs and told Betta to hold it in place. She bent and tore the once fine white gown and began kneading the rounded stomach that still quivered. Her hands stopped and Betta read shock and dismay on the woman's face.

"There is another child."

Betta quickly exchanged places with the midwife. Lucrezia was almost fainting, her face wan and bloodless and her eyes staring into empty space. Betta grabbed her chemise at the neck and forced her to sit up. When Lucrezia would have closed her eyes Betta slapped her face and screamed at her. "Push, my lady, push or you shall both perish."

Lucrezia roused herself and screamed as she pushed, holding Betta's hands so tightly that she could feel the bones crunching in protest. She stared into Betta's eyes, and she watched as the grey eyes became wreathed in tiny swatches of red as she screamed and clawed with effort. There was a noise outside and dimly Betta heard shouts that announced that Lord Cesare had finally arrived and was trying to force himself into the room.

"He is here, Lucrezia. Push."

There was some reserve of strength left in the frail body. With a shriek Lucrezia grabbed her knees and pushed the child from her body. With despair Betta saw that the blood which has slowed to a trickle now gushed forth following the emergence of the tiny child. Lady Lucrezia went limp and Betta let her fall to the bed. The midwife caught her eye as she handed her the little girl bathed in the red life blood off her mother and shook her head. Betta paused only long enough to notice that the baby was beautiful, with round cheeks and a head of dark curls, and handed her to the nuns.

"Its too much blood. She will not make it." The woman whispered, backing away from the bed and rubbing her hands on a rag.

Betta drew her knife in move that took less than a heartbeat and brought it to the woman's throat. The nuns ceased their prayers and one of Lucrezia's ladies stifled a shriek but Betta heard none of it as she screamed at the midwife who was going to let Lucrezia fade. "IF YOU LET HER DIE I SWEAR TO GOD YOU WILL FOLLOW HER!" She knew that she looked a mad woman, covered in blood and fluids, gripping the knife, but she did not care.

"I will do what I can but I can't help your lady with a knife at my throat." The midwife dropped the cloth and returned to the insensible woman on the bed.

They worked feverishly together, the midwife massaging her lady's stomach with scented oil that smelled of chamomile while Betta held a roll of cloth to the open wound that had so recently produced life. Dimly she was aware of the sounds of the two babes in the room, crying as they were cleaned and inspected. Had they been deformed in any way the infants would not have been allowed to draw their next breath. The bleeding slowed but the minutes dragged by while she watched the gentle rise and fall of her lady's chest, expecting each movement to be the last. Lucrezia's eyes were closed, but it was not the restful slumber that she needed. Rather it held the shadow of the grave in the deep circles under her eyes and the tinge of grey to her cheeks, as though death was eager to steal her away.

Betta had no idea how much time had passed before she saw that the bleeding had finally stopped. The midwife stood, swaying, and wiped the sweat from her brow. "I have done all that I can. It's in God's hands now." Betta nodded at the woman in agreement.

One of the attendants had just replaced Lady Lucrezia bloody gown when the midwife opened the door with the two infants in her arms. Cesare looked at them for a scant moment before he nodded and pushed his way into the room. Lucrezia was white and motionless on the bed and when he saw her he stumbled and croaked in a voice that hardly seemed his own "Is she.."

"No, my lord." Betta said. "She clings to life."

Betta sent the other women from the room. Monica, one of Lucrezia's newer attendants, looked mutinous at this dismissal but Betta gazed at her dispassionately until the empty headed young girl almost ran from the room. All of the ladies that made up Lucrezia's retinue were terrified of Betta. Lady Angela, a distant cousin of Prince Alfonso, had been found gossiping about Lucrezia to a gentleman from the town and Betta was widely suspected in her mysterious fall from the top of the castle gates. That Betta never bothered to deny her actions only added to her deadly reputation.

The midwife told Betta to stay and try to feed Lucrezia broth or wine and to regularly change the dressing that caught the blood seeping from her womb. Cesare Borgia unbuckled the sword that was at his waist and let in fall to the ground, where it was covered by his traveling cloak, gloves, and heavy doublet. Somewhere in the frantic ride to Nepi his hat had fallen and the dark curls that clung to his neck were coated with a thick layer of dust. The past months had been difficult for Cesare Borgia for there were scars that stained the perfection of his face and made him look much older, as did the lines that that now bracketed his mouth and eyes. He crawled upon the bed where Lucrezia lay motionless and took her hand and stroked the wet hair that lay gleaming upon the pillows. Betta knew there was nothing further she could do so she sat down and leaned her head against the bed and listened through the stupor of exhaustion and grief that clouded her senses.

"Lucrezia." He said, drawing the sound out until the word became both a caress and a prayer. "My love. You must awake." His face was so close to Lucrezia's that the tears he shed flowed from his cheeks on to hers, bathing her face like the waters of baptism. "Nothing else matters if you are taken from me. You are the only thing in this world that I have ever loved and I can not go on if you are taken from me. I will give you back to God if you live, I swear it. I will find a way to let you go. "

He spoke for hours to her, such scalding and beautiful words that Betta thought she would always remember them even as a tiny worm of jealousy snaked through her. No one will ever love me this much, she thought.

Cesare talked about always feeling apart from everyone, separated by intellect and drive and the need to prove himself, especially to their father who he resembled so absolutely. He had felt empty and adrift, marked by the curse of their family name for as long as he could remember but he knew home every time she would smile. When she was an infant his was the only touch that soothed her, and he would rock her for hours when she would cry during the night. His name was the first word she had spoken and when he was away at the University he lived in fear that she would be snatched away from him, and only the sight of her blond curls under his hand and her blinding, light filled smiles could chase away the demons that plagued him. "I loved you too much, always too much," he croaked.

Cesare's voice was nothing but a rasp as he continued to speak, but he pushed away the wine Betta pressed into his hand. He kept whispering to her as though he could chain her to life with his words and that stopping even for a second risked losing her in the battle with death. "I hated it when you became a woman, and I hated myself even more for noticing that you outshone every woman that I took, for seeing myself in you, but lovely and delicate and beautiful. I loved you always, but then I wanted you even as I loved you and I have always known I was damned for it.

"I will give you back to God now. There can be no greater punishment for me than knowing I could have killed you with love."

He brought her still closer to his chest but his eyes no longer looked upon Lucrezia's face. He gazed at a small niche across the room where a statue of the Blessed Virgin smiled beatifically down upon the infant Jesus. When he began to speak again Betta realized that he was praying. His words were very rapid and quiet and Betta could only hear snatches of what was said.

"...Never touch her again, I swear it...find her a husband, let her live as an example to others...take my life, take my life for her...anything..I will give you anything for her life." And then he cried, great gulping sobs that shook his body and that of the woman he held in arms and Betta knew that he had given up hope that she would live.

Betta gasped when she saw the white arm that had been hanging limply begin to slowly move, rising until Lucrezia could touch her hand to the tears that coursed down his cheeks. She opened her eyes for a second and smiled into Cesare's face before she drifted back into sleep, a peaceful slumber that seemed to bring some color back into the wan cheeks and make her chest rise and fall more regularly. The next time she opened her eyes Betta was waiting with a bowl of beef broth, and she would not let her lady speak until she had swallowed down some of the rich soup. Lucrezia drifted in and out of sleep for a day and a night and every waking filled Betta with joy for she now knew that her lady would live.

As soon as she was able Lucrezia demanded that the two babes be brought to her. A wet nurse had been found in the village and despite their size the two infants seemed to be thriving. Lucrezia motioned for Betta to take her daughter after she had gazed into the sleeping face with love and sadness, tracing the lines of her round cheeks and the eyelashes that were like tiny fans. Micheletto watched from the door and when Betta brought the child to show him he looked upon the baby with so much delighted tenderness that Betta felt her heart break. Through eyes swimming with tears Betta saw Lucrezia and Cesare Borgia watching Micheletto holding their daughter in his capable hands.

"You must bring our Holy Father here at once, Cesare." Lucrezia said


	12. Chapter 12

"Elizabetta, would you join me?" Lucrezia Borgia asked from the bed where she lay among golden cushions. In her arms she held her son, Rodrigo, now a month old, as she waited for her father the Pope to arrive. Cesare, accompanied by Micheletto, had brought the Holy Father in disguise to Nepi as Lucrezia had requested and Betta could see from the heightened color of her Lady's cheeks and the pulse that thrummed in her neck that she was as filled with anxiety as Betta herself was.

The time since the birth of the twins had passed in a whirlwind of activity. Lucrezia had insisted that Betta must learn to read and write, and the hours that she spent closeted with a tutor had proved more taxing than the most arduous day of looking after her lady. Betta no longer served as Lucrezia's personal maid. She was now sequestered in a little used part of the castle with a wet-nurse and the tiny girl child that Lucrezia had born. A seamstress had been brought to provide Betta with garments that reflected her new station and she had been endlessly drilled on the intricacies of manners and genealogy.

Elizabetta stood by Lucrezia's side holding her sleeping daughter in a tastefully simple violet gown that brought out the roses in her cheeks and she knew that the Pope would see her as Lucrezia wished, a nobly born member of the household and not the serving girl he had attempted to fondle on more than one occasion. The Pope and Cesare were brought to the room as soon as they had refreshed themselves from the journey. Lucrezia lifted her arm as though to stroke her brother's face when he greeted her but stopped, drawing back with an unutterably sad expression on her face. Betta had not been present when Cesare had taken his leave of her but she could well imagine the pain that they both felt in the change of their relationship.

The pope had swept into the room behind Cesare, followed by Micheletto. When the assassin's eyes met hers she blushed, uncertain around him once more. Despite his simple monk's garb Alexander radiated the power and authority that could only come with serving as God's representative on Earth. Lucrezia held out the child in her arms for him to see.

"This is your grandson, whom I have named Rodrigo." Lucrezia had taken great pains to arrange this meeting to her advantage, and she used her beauty as a weapon. She looked like the Madonna with her son, no visible remnants of the struggle that had almost taken her life. She wore a simple sky blue robe and her hair fell in soft waves across her shoulders.

"Oh Lucrezia" the Holy Father crooned as he scooped the child into his arms "he is beautiful." Rodrigo Borgia stroked the child's downy head and murmured endearments to him.

"And this," Lucrezia said, motioning Betta forward "is Lucia, my daughter."

"What a surprise! Twins! My mother said that I myself had a twin but it did not survive long, God rest its soul. We must give thanks for this blessing."

The Pope prayed over the children, and some of his appeal was finally made manifest to Betta as she held the child to receive his blessing. In spite of his personal failings the charisma that emanated from the patriarch of the Borgia family made him a figure that was both compelling and attractive.

"When will you be returning to Rome?" The Pope asked and he spoke of the magnificent celebration he would hold to commemorate the baptism of his grandchildren. A chair had been placed next to the bed for him.

"I will return to Rome with Giovanni and Rodrigo as soon as I am able to travel."

"And Lucia?"

"I have made other arrangements for her." Lucrezia said.

Lucrezia had outlined her plan to Betta as she lay in the beginning stages of labor. Should the child be born a girl Betta and Micheletto were to marry, take the child and journey north to the town of Grosseto, an area of little strategic importance under the control of Sienna that was dependent on the local fishing trade. Her man of business, Vincenzo Giordano, had purchased a villa that overlooked the rocky coast and a substantial amount of money had been left with the Spannochi bankers as a dowry.

"Lucia is to be raised far from our family, fostered and known as the child of another until she reaches womanhood. I have purchased a small estate where she shall live and with Cesare's help I have settled a dowry on her that will allow her to marry as she might wish."

The Pope was speechless with shock. "This is preposterous. I shall not allow it. My granddaughter raised like the offspring of some misbegotten farmer when she could be a princess or a duchess."

"Or she could be bartered off to a vile creature that will rape her nightly as I was." Lucrezia's voice was inflexible. "Rodrigo will be Cesare's heir. His wife has lately given birth to a daughter and he has sworn to beget no more children upon her that could supplant him in succession. My daughter will be raised apart from our family and when she reaches her menarche she will be given the choice to enter our world."

"This is utterly absurd. What of the father of these children?" The Pope blustered. "Has he agreed to this idiotic plan? You would pass this boy off as Alfonso's and yet deny your daughter the status and privileges that would be hers by right?"

"I am the father." Cesare told the pope, who flinched back as though struck and covered his face with his hands. "I have agreed to this because it is Lucrezia's price for my.."He searched around for words and Betta knew what he would have said. Her price for my absence, for ending our relationship. "for my actions."

Rodrigo Borgia looked at his daughter, golden haired and lovely, and his tall handsome son garbed in black and the Pope who had always prided himself on the ability to look into the hearts of man saw, for the first time, the ties that bound them together. Had they always moved as though dancing, he wondered? Movements echoed by the other, eyes seeing others only as if they existed on the periphery? The veil had been removed and so many things made more sense. Cesare's disapproval of her marriages, his rage filled murder of Giovanni Sforza and Lucrezia's inability to find happiness in the arms of another. He must have been blind to have missed it, the thing that was between them was so obvious. There was genuine grief upon his face and the pope looked close to tears. "How could you have done this? She is your sister, Cesare"

Cesare snorted wryly. Lucrezia looked at the one who was once her lover and was now forever lost to her with love and sadness warring for dominance on her face. The events of past weeks had stripped the last vestiges of her girlhood away, leaving in its place a woman more than capable of holding her own with a prince of the church. She had a new gravity in her bearing and the sadness that had sometimes overtaken her had taken up permanent residence upon her features.

"I seduced him, Father."

"You could not have known what you were doing." He insisted, waving the words away as he focused disapproval upon his wayward son.

Lucrezia made her words deliberately crude.."I climbed onto his cock the night of my last wedding, after my coward of a husband left and by the time I was done we could barely walk. I knew exactly what I was doing."

Rodrigo's voice trembled. "Incest is a damnable sin, and to think that my own children have done something so repugnant in the eyes of God..." He covered his eyes with a hand.

"Not incest Father. Love." Betta watched Cesare as Lucrezia spoke these words. After their stilted greeting Cesare had sat upon the bed, holding Lucrezia's slippered foot as though he needed the contact but not trusting himself with anything more intimate. His eyes closed at her words, and a flicker of pain passed over his face before he could control it. "I love him more than I love myself, as he loves me. What did you think you were creating in us, Holy Father? We are the product of your greed and lust and ambition. Are you at all surprised that the only one I could truly love would be a Borgia?" Lucrezia's tone softened and she got out of her bed and knelt at her father's feet. "My son will be your prince, born through the grace of God so that no one could reasonably doubt his legitimacy. But my daughter will be given the choices that I never was. Her maidenhead will not be sacrificed upon the alter of our ambition. And if you assist me in this I will give you what you most need in return."

"And that would be?"

"I will agree to whatever splendid match you and Cesare can devise to the benefit of our family. Cesare's favor with the king of France might enable a match with even so great a family as the Este. I will conduct myself as a model of decorum and I will bring credit and honor to the name of Borgia. To insure this you have only to agree and prepare the documents naming her as the natural daughter of Cesare and an unnamed noblewoman of Rome, which will be kept in readiness."

"But why, Lucrezia?" The Pope pleaded. "Has your life been so terrible that you would deny us a beloved granddaughter? Do you truly hate me this much?"

Lucrezia Borgia smiled and touched his face fondly. "I love you, my Papa, most Holy Father, but I am giving my daughter a precious gift. She will have control over her own life."

"Who is she to be fostered with? Can you be certain that she will be reared and protected as befits her rank?" A hint of craftiness had entered his expression.

"That need not concern you, Holy Father." Cesare answered. "But you should have no fears for her. She will be well looked after by ones whom I trust without reservation." He rose from the bed and took Lucia again in his arms, winking at Betta as he pressed a kiss to his daughter's cheek. "Should you refuse, Lucrezia and I will live openly together and I will acknowledge the children as my own." A bluff, Betta knew, but even the threat was enough to make the decision more palatable.

The pope sagged into a chair and nodded as though the weight of the world had descended upon his shoulders. "If this is truly your wish I will not stand in your way. Perhaps through this child we may all be redeemed. But," he added quickly "do not tell your mother. You know how courtesans like to gossip."

The Pope left after affixing his seal upon the documents naming Lucia's parentage. Betta and Micheletto were married the same afternoon, Cesare and Lucrezia acting as the sole witnesses. Betta could not remember afterward the words said to join them together as husband and wife. All that she could see was his face, filling her vision, and how handsome he looked in his dark clothing, red hair brilliant as fire against the back light of the candles. One of Lucrezia's gowns had been altered to serve as her wedding dress. A dark blue velvet ornamented with gold embroidery on the slashed sleeves, it was finer than anything Betta could have imagined wearing and she knew that for this night at least she was the loveliest person in the room. Micheletto's mouth curved into a quick smile when he saw her and Betta knew that he found her beautiful, too.

A table had been set for the bridal feast only large enough for the four of them. They were served roasted pheasant and dainty sweetmeats by one of the elderly retainers that had come with the castle. Lucrezia forced herself into gaiety for the night, laughing and chattering, and her eyes sparkled as she served wine and proposed a toast.

"To our famiglia."

There was a room prepared for them in the castle, far grander than the one Betta had previously occupied, suitable for a visiting lord. Cesare escorted them to the chamber where they would sleep for a single night before they began the journey on the morrow.

"You will care tenderly for my daughter?" Lord Cesare asked when they had reached the door.

"I swear that no harm shall come to her." Micheletto said.

"My friend." Cesare grasped Micheletto's forearms in his hands and pulled him into an embrace. No more words passed between them but Betta thought that any breach created by the betrayal of Micheletto's lover had been healed and they stood as brothers in arms once more. Cesare looked at Betta and smiled. "Beautiful Elizabetta." He bent and kissed her, not on the cheek as she would have thought but on the mouth, a lingering, sweet kiss. His lips were faintly rough and tasted of salt and wine, and the fragrance of him enveloped her in warmth. When he drew back she could see that he had held her new husband's eyes throughout, and Micheletto's hands were clenched into fists but he looked far from angry when he watched Cesare disappear down the corridor.

The chamber was very quiet after the activity and bustle of the day, and the silence stretched.

"Micheletto." She hesitated, shy and uncertain before him in the light of the flickering candle. "I did not plan or suggest this to Lady Lucrezia. I would never have trapped you in a marriage that was against your will."

Micheletto came up behind her and untied the frivolous little veil of lace that Lucrezia had insisted she wear. He pulled the pins that bound her hair one by one, sifting through the strands until it hung like a shining dark curtain to her waist. He unlaced her gown slowly, and when she stood naked before him he took a second to admire the beauty of her form, displayed for the first time to his eyes. He traced a line with his finger from her collarbone, down over the curve of her breasts and stomach, and cupped her hips in his hands. He brought her against him, and through the layers of clothing she could feel his desire.

"What a terrible fate has befallen me." He rasped in her ear. "A lovely wife, property, and the care of a child who will be as my own." He picked her up and carried her to the bed, pausing to remove his own garments before joining her. "I have killed for less." Micheletto tried to quell the things that were inside of him, and treat her gently as befitted his new bride but she did not want his restraint. She needed the strength and harshness of him, the barely restrained ferocity of his embrace that made her feel safer then she had ever been in her entire life.


	13. Chapter 13

"Elizabetta!" Lord Cesare hailed her from the head of a large company of horseman that had entirely filled the small stone courtyard of the villa that stood on the shores of the Mediterranean. He dismounted and strode in her direction. Betta rose from the small stool that she had placed in the shade of an ancient tree where she could watch the children running through Micheletto's grape vines. Her sister Ginevera and her two children had joined Betta in the large house after her husband had been killed in one of the many street fights that broke out in Rome with increasing regularly and the house often rang with the sound of their laughter.

She watched him as he walked toward her, his stride filled with power and a smooth, easy grace. Cesare Borgia had recently won a great victory at Urbino, and he seemed poised to unite all of Italy into one kingdom. Still beautiful, his face now held a collection of small scars and his eyes no longer glowed with warmth or humor. The man that stood before her was barely recognizable as a former cleric and member of the College of Cardinals. His frame rippled with muscles under the engraved armor and he wielded the infamous Borgia charm like another weapon in his arsenal.

Cesare greeted her like a courtier, admiration shining in his eyes as he looked at her in appreciation. Betta knew that the years had been kind to her. Relieved of constant burden of work her looks had blossomed, and the simple garments and loose hairstyles she favored added to her charm. When he rose from his bow his attention focused on the group of children that ran through the fields.

"Lucia!" Betta called, and the smallest of the children came to where they stood in the shade. Cesare's eyes devoured the girl's face. Lucia had not reached her second birthday but her beauty was already apparent. Curls the color of warm honey tumbled to her shoulders and her delicate features glowed as she smiled at her father and waved her dirt covered hand at him. Cesare's face was filled with yearning as he looked at the small girl who so favored her mother. He reached out as if to stroke the delicate cheek but then he stopped and pulled back, his face guarded once more.

"I would not sully her with my touch." He said, but his expression had cracked just the tiniest bit. "Come, I would make someone known to you." Betta called to her sister from the house to watch the children. Lucia returned to the company of her cousins as Micheletto emerged from the fields that surrounded the house. His careful tending of the grapevines had started out as a jest between them, a way to pass the time when he was not training her or attending to business. Lately his business had taken him into Milan more and more, and Betta knew that he sought another type of fulfillment there. After greeting the Duke with a bow Micheletto stood by her side as Cesare motioned a man forward from the company of horsemen. He was tall, topping even Il Valentino, wearing a brightly colored doublet and hose. His flowing hair and beard were brown liberally streaked with white under a large floppy hat. Micheletto jerked almost imperceptibly when he saw the man walking forward and a particular tightness bracketed the corners of his mouth.

"This is Master Da Vinci." Betta and Micheletto greeted the man cordially, but Da Vinci's expression had gone perfectly bland when he drew close enough to see the face of the man behind the copper hair and beard.

"He is my mapmaker. I have heard that he paints occasionally but I have yet to see a completed work." Cesare's voice was filled with sardonic humor as he looked at the tall man. He had not missed the tenseness of the greeting between his former assassin and the artist but he dismissed the implications as unimportant.

"I am never satisfied with work, my lord, therefore I seldom finish it." Da Vinci mockingly shrugged his shoulders, and he cloaked himself in practiced charm once more. His eyes never ceased moving and Betta thought there was no part of the simple square villa that had not been committed to his memory, from the vines that wilted despite Micheletto's careful tending to the enormous black hound that Lady Lucrezia had sent to them the year before that watched over the children.

"After he finished a map of my fortress at Imola he showed me a sketch that found my favor."

Master DaVinci pulled a leather covered portfolio from a bag and thumbed through it quickly. Betta could see sketches and words filling the pages in glorious disarray and she had to stop herself from pulling the folio from his hands so she could examine it further. "Ah, here it is." Da Vinci flipped the book in his hands and Betta found herself looking at Lady Lucrezia's face, beautifully rendered with her hair tumbling around her shoulders. "I was in Malalbergo when Lady Lucrezia was making her procession to Ferrara. She had spent a day washing her hair in preparation for her entrance into the city but the wind that blew down from the mountains pulled the pins from it as if God himself desired that I should see the lady with her golden hair falling down."

"I have asked him to sketch Lucia for me." Betta knew that there must be more to his visit but she bowed and went to fetch the child who was still playing in the warm summer sunshine with her cousins. She attempted to restore some order to the child's honey colored curls as they walked back to the house but it was a fruitless endeavor. At almost two years old Lucia seldom spoke but she was possessed of boundless energy and her hair resisted all attempts to confine it under a respectable cap. Lucia's skin glowed with the faint golden sheen that spoke of her Spanish ancestry and her eyes were unexpectedly beautiful, almond shaped and surrounded by a fringe of dark lashes. Not gray like her mother's, the eyes were a mixture of green and gold and seemed lit from within. Betta placed Lucia on blanket near the hearth and watched as Master Da Vinci drew close to examine her.

"Your daughter is beautiful, my lord." Da Vinci said.

"How do you know that she is mine?" Cesare Borgia seemed amused rather than concerned that the painter had so easily guessed her sire.

"The features are strikingly similar and..." Master Da Vinci's voice trailed off as Lucia focused her gaze on the tall man with the flowing hair and beard for the first time. She looked at him solemnly, eyes enormous, no trace of a smile curving her round cheeks and full mouth. Their eyes held one another in a moment of mutual fascination before the old man grabbed his chalk and began to work feverishly, all traces of his earlier careless good humor gone as he strode to capture her likeness. He began to hum underneath his breath as red lines flew across the page. He drew her face over and over again, paying particular attention to her eyes, and then her dimpled hands as she examined them in the dappled sunlight. Micheletto seated himself in a darkened corner of the room, content to observe from the shadows until the child needed him.

"Elizabetta, would you walk outside with me?" Lord Cesare bowed to her as he would to a great lady and Betta could not help the blush that stained her cheeks as he took her hand and tucked it in the crook of his arm. The silence stretched between them as Betta led him down the warn path that led from the villa to the shoreline where the turquoise water of the sea had carved away at the shore until it stood in ragged cliffs to the horizon.

"Master Da Vinci is most unusual." Betta said, wondering where he had encountered Micheletto and how long their dalliance had lasted.

"His is the greatest mind of our age. I have seen his designs for weapons and they will revolutionize the way that we fight battles. He sees a world of infinite wonder, where man can know the nature of all things and take to the sky with the wings of birds."

"Is there not an ancient legend where a man wore the wings of a bird to escape from prison but died in a fall?"

"It was Daedalus's son Icarus that died." Cesare smiled sadly. "He flew too close to the sun and melted the wax that held the feathers and he fell like an angel thrown from God's sight."

"Too high a price, surely." Betta thought they were no longer speaking only of ancient legends.

"I would rather risk the fall then to be a prisoner for all my days, surrounded only by the things that my father had created."

Cesare was silent for a while, gazing into the horizon where the setting sun painted the clouds in glorious colors. "Tell me of my daughter." He commanded softly.

"She is...she is a child unlike any other, my lord. Beautiful, of course, but so sweet and gentle. I am sometimes afraid that our Lord will realize he sent one of his angels to us and snatch her away." Betta brushed a tear away with a small laugh. "Forgive my folly."

"You love her, then?"

"More than my own life, Lord Cesare."

Cesare smiled, and for the first time she could see a hint of the boy she had once known in the house of Vannozza dei Cattanei. "Then we have done well by her, at least." Cesare looked at her solemnly. "I must ask one thing more of you, Elizabetta. I would have you help me convince Micheletto to return to my service."

"You would leave your daughter defenseless?"

"No, but I need his guidance once more. Everything that we have planned hinges on the successes of the next year. If my father should die all might be lost. Two men that I have brought will remain to guard my daughter and they will protect her with their own lives. And Micheletto has led me to believe that you are skilled in the deadly arts as well." Cesare brought the knife he had palmed streaking toward her body. Betta easily deflected it and used the momentum of his strike to unbalance him and send flying against the bolder. He grunted at the impact but then began to laugh as he dropped the knife. Betta joined him in mirth and then she was in his arms and he was kissing her, arching her spine back against the boulder when he moved to stand between her legs. Part of her had always wanted him, and the changes that had been wrought in him by the years of bloodshed and pain only increased her attraction to him. The darkness always called more to her than the light and he now radiated nothing so much as deadly purpose and strength of will. The waves that crashed into the rocky shore were but a muted noise compared to the pounding blood in her ears and Betta struggled to remember all the reasons why she must send him away. His hips moved, and the intimate press of his hard flesh against hers as his tongue moved inside her mouth made her body tremble with need.

"I could stay for the night. Micheletto would not mind, I feel certain." His mouth moved up her neck and bit down on her ear and everything inside of Betta turned to flame and then melted. "He could even watch." He whispered persuasively.

Betta knew that he was correct. Micheletto would not begrudge her this, as she had never begrudged him the days spent in the city where he could find something in the embrace of another that she could not offer. But Cesare Borgia was not hers, and she would never be a substitute again. "When you look at me, do you see me, or another?"

"Does it matter so much?" He kissed her again, biting down on the fullness of her bottom lip and the heat that roared inside of her body became acutely painful.

"It would matter to me, my lord," she gasped "and to my Lady, should she ever find out."

He groaned softly and moved away from her but it was not far enough. Betta could still feel the heat from his body where it had pressed against hers and she hoped he would not touch her again because she did not have the will left to resist him any longer.

"Little Betta, our watcher. Would you give her something, then, should I fall like Icarus and you are the only one left who knows our story and all that we were to one another?"  
She nodded and he gathered her into his arms. This kiss was different from the others and the sadness she could sense in him was unbearable. He truly did not care if he fell, she realized, for all that was left to him was the climb. Cesare had to brush the tears from her cheeks before he took her hand again and led her back from the shore. They had almost reached the gate when in the distance the sound of a rider could be heard racing towards them. As the rider approached Betta could see that the man wore the black livery of Cesare Borgia's army.

"Micheletto!" Cesare shouted, and an instant later her husband appeared at the door and took the place next to his lord as they waited for the soldier.

The man appeared half dead from weariness and the horse's sides heaved and were flecked with foam.

"A message, my lord, from your brother in law Alfonso d'Este. Your lady sister sits at death's door and they have given up hope of recovery."

His intake of breath was a sharp sound, echoing her own. "My horse!" Cesare bellowed, and the servants that had accompanied him from Milan sprang into action and made ready to depart despite the lateness of the hour.

Micheletto stood in the driveway watching as Cesare Borgia hastily made his preparations to leave and Betta, who knew him so well, could read his conflicting emotions. Lucia had totted out and grabbed Micheletto's legs and he reflexively scooped to pick her up. Lucia hugged her father and patted his cheek as though to reassure him and he pressed a light kiss into her curls. Betta came and took the child from him.

"It is time for you to return to his side, my husband. He needs you now more than ever before." There were tears that welled behind her eyes but she refused to let even so much as a hint of it show on her face.

"But you and the child.." She could see how he desired it, wanted to follow his master back into battle and she would not be the one to put the chain around his neck again.

"Who would think to look for us here? Now go, my dear, and make ready." The artist declined to ride with them, pleading his advanced age with a twinkle in his eyes, and he did sketch after sketch of Lucia before he departed the next day.

Betta thought of the emotion that had sometimes welled up inside of her when she looked at the man who was her husband. The tenderness, the aching need to make him happy. On the nights that Lucia had cried and Micheletto would spend hours walking her through the darkened rooms, singing songs in his gruff voice to her that he must have only half remembered. When they would laugh together at the follies of their neighbors, or when he would smile at her when they sparred together and she would hit him with the dull blade of the knife they used. It was love, she finally understood as she watched him make ready to leave. Not the dangerous, all-consuming love that she had craved but it was her own and it gave her the strength to let him go.

Micheletto kissed her cheek and sprinted into the house to gather his weapons. Later, when he returned home for a short visit, he would tell her of that wild journey through the dark to Ferrara. They had arrived mid-day, having ridden throughout the night, and galloped into the fortress just as they were making ready to bleed Lucrezia in a desperate bid to stop the fever that was claiming her life. Cesare had held her foot and whispered words to her in the language of Catalan that made her laugh and seemed to bring her back from the brink of death once more. After the danger had passed they left Ferrara and Micheletto rode into battle at Cesare Borgia's side once more.


End file.
